Wild Love: A Beauty and the Beast Story
by PLwrite
Summary: She had loved him without any expectation that he would be other than he was. He had loved her with hope he would be released from the curse. Passionate love, accepting each other and themselves, and a curse that's a bit tricky. **This is a smutty love story staring Belle and Beast-Adam, both before and after he changes.**
1. Chapter 1

A/N: **This story intended for Adults. Please respect your author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.**

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

********ONE********

Belle dashed though the corridors of the castle, feet, hands, and nose cold from the snow. Reaching her room she collapsed back against the closed door, breathless. She startled when the wardrobe asked if she was well. She could accustom herself to living furniture, but not to a lack of privacy. Making assurances and requesting a change of clothes, she stepped into her adjoining chamber to dry herself and clean up. There was a bit more privacy here, and she thought back to the playful encounter she had just had with Beast.

He was endearing. And yet, he was fierce and could be short tempered. Recollections of him rescuing her from wolves forced themselves forward. He was such a contradiction. At moments courtly and aristocratic, and at others a brutish warrior, and then innocent and playful, stubborn. She had begun to teach him to read. He had known how at some point, she had come to believe. But it was like his manners, he had ceased using them alone here in his enchanted castle and he had forgotten. They were reading together. Poetry today, she thought.

She met him in the library where a large fire was glowing in the massive hearth. He had arranged a thick rug before it and a low table with steaming tea and plates of cookies and fruit.

"Belle," his voice nervous and his feet shuffling, "Is this ok? I thought we could have a picnic, by the fire. But would you rather the settee? Or…"

"This is perfect, thank you!" She settled herself down on the rug and fixed their tea. "Are you going to join me?"

He nodded his shaggy head and curled himself beside her.

"Shall you read today or shall I?"

"We can take turns."

"Very well." And she began from the slim book of sonnets.

When he took the next turn she had difficulty focusing on the words, rather distracted by his eyes, so intent on the pages, his lips and teeth, straining to form each word. He shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable, and she became aware of his scent. She had smelled him before, certainly, each time they were close. He smelled musky and slightly sweet, and like wood and citrus. She wondered what of it was him and what the soap he used. She was leaning toward him, she realized.

"Belle, are you well? Should we move back from the fire?"

"I am well. Are you too warm? We can move if you wish."

"No, but you are flushed. Did you take a chill this morning? Are you feverish?"

"Oh no! I am quite well. Don't worry," she reached out a hand and laid it on his arm. Her fingers slid over the fine lawn of his shirt, the warmth of his arm underneath. She pinched the fabric between her fingers, rubbing them together. Her eyes studying his arm, shirt, her fingers, "You are wearing a shirt."

"Yes."

"You didn't always. Why did you begin?" she looked up at him through her lashes, curious, studying.

"I… well, you…I," he stumbled, and she thought if he wasn't covered in fur he would have been blushing. Perhaps he was, underneath.

"Why?"

"It seemed only proper, now that I have a guest. Now that you live here. That I should behave as a man, as a gentleman. As much as I can. I wish you to be comfortable here. With me."

"I see."

"I ought to wear a coat, I know. But it's…it is … difficult." He looked away, his eyes dropping to the floor and his expression growing dark.

It was amazing, she thought, that he had so much expression on his beastly face. So much emotion in his eyes. "I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable."

"I do not mind."

"Did you wear a fine coat everyday, before? And boots? Do you miss it?"

He gasped and looked at her with horror. "What did you hear? What do you know?"

"Nothing! Nothing. Truly. I didn't mean to invade your privacy."

He relaxed marginally, and feeling her hand now gripping his arm, he turned to her after a brief internal struggle. "I miss many things. Coats and boots are not ones I had considered. There is freedom in … in not needing them."

"It is a shame to cover your fur, so beautiful and useful. You don't get chilled even in a drafty room, do you?"

He could only look at her in wonder.

"How old are you?" she asked, now it having formed in her mind that he had been a man, and was now something apart, she could not completely smother her curiosity. He fascinated her.

"I… I don't know." He frowned. How long had it been since the curse had been laid upon them? And did time pass the same? He thought not. The young ones did not seem to age, nor the elderly pass way, though it had been many years.

"It has been many years, since you all became what you are?"

"Why do you ask this?"

"I wish to know you. To know your life."

"Why?"

She looked away. "We are friends, are we not?"

"I hope so Belle."

"Would you like to know about me?"

"Would you tell me?"

"Yes. Anything."

He stared at her, as she raised wide trusting eyes to him. She was so beautiful in the firelight and the last of the evening sun casting a golden glow across her face from the window.

"What was your favorite book about?"

And she relaxed and shifted closer to him, not touching but close enough to feel his warmth. And she told him about adventure and surprise and romance.

That night in her bed she considered her friend. He was unlike anyone she had ever known. Of course he was a beast living in a magic castle. But aside from that, he was unique. He was smart, yet ignorant. He was kind and careful, but capable of great violence and rage. He listened to her, and cared about her thoughts and opinions. He did not think she was silly or odd. He made her feel special and beautiful. And she had a visceral response to him. He provoked her.

She thought that if he was not a beast in a magic castle she would be very nearly in love with him.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect your author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _She thought that if he was not a beast in a magic castle she would be very nearly in love with him._

********TWO********

The next day she could not shake the notion that she might, under other circumstances, be in love with Beast. And the equally shocking idea that perhaps the fact that he was a beast didn't matter all that much. She began a list of things, horrible things, that -if he were a man- would not prevent her from loving him. A lost limb. Blindness. Ugliness. Clumsiness. Bad breath. Poverty. She had a harder time with some, like stupidity or cruelty, because a Beast with those qualities was not himself, really. After that idea, she realized that she would prefer Beast, as he was, to a stupid, cruel man. And she had known a few of those in her life.

When they sat to dinner the next day Beast became concerned, and self conscious; Belle was staring at him. Intently. He had begun to consider whether he ought to revel some of the truth of the circumstances to her. His initial reaction was always to hide. Hide his shame. Hide himself. But she had claimed him as a friend, and wished to know him better. He wished for more, eventually, than friendship with her. But for know, perhaps it would be best to tell her.

"Belle, I would like to speak with you, to tell you something, privately. Would you come to the library with me? Tonight."

"Of course." She had realized some days earlier that if one wished for privacy the library was as good a choice as any. The only living objects in that room could be ordered to leave under their own power, and had other places they could be. She had yet to try it, but she noticed the room cleared out when she retreated there to read with Beast.

When the meal was over he came to her chair and held out a paw. She placed her hand in it, feeling the contrast between the slick close fur of his fingers and the warm fleshy pads of his palms. He placed her hand on his arm and she felt the loss. Once they reached the library he stepped away and built up the fire; the room was chilled. She sat on a nearby sofa. He eyed it a moment, before grabbing several cushions and settling himself on the floor before her.

"I wished to tell you about my history, about… this castle. If you wish to hear."

"Oh! Are you certain? I do want to know. It is so much a part of you. But you have kept such a secret, and … it pains you I think. I do not wish to hurt you."

"I can not be hurt by sharing with you, I don't think. I admit… it is a painful tale. I… do not like thinking of it."

She rose from her seat and settled herself beside him. When the cold stone floor reached through the rug and bit into her she moved closer to his side, searching for heat. She reached for his hand, holding it in both of hers. "I will hear whatever you wish to tell me."

So he told her of a spoiled and selfish young man, noble by birth but not by deed. Of a family gone away and arrogance and vanity consuming a man with too much power, too early. And of a beggar woman, seeking shelter, haggard and frightful. Of cruelty and disdain. And a curse.

"How long?" she asked, tears pooling in her eyes. "How long have you been alone here?"

"I … I don't know. Many years. Cogsworth would know, but I had no reason to keep track."

"And the, the -Lumiere and Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts?"

"They are all servants of the castle. I have trapped them here with me." His self loathing made his voice harsh.

She reached up and stroked his fuzzy brow and soft cheek. "You must forgive yourself. You did wrongly, yes. But you know that now. You are not cruel or selfish now. You must forgive yourself. They have forgiven you, I am sure."

He stared at her. He could not believe her compassion, her gentleness. He slowly reached out and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. Pressing her to his massive frame.

She pulled herself up against him, wrapping her arms around his massive neck. She could not encircle him, so she sunk her fingers in the thick soft wooly fur of his back. She pressed herself into his hard solid bulk. She was so much smaller than he, he completely surrounded her. She sunk her nose into his neck, sniffing him. A jolt of heat and longing raced through her, and she became aware of him in a new, shocking, titillating way.

She wanted him, she suddenly realized. Wanted to touch and be touched. To give and take pleasure. To love. It made her breathless. And shocked and afraid. She stilled, and pulled back to look into his eyes. His pain, still so vivid, stilled her other thoughts.

"I have been selfish and cruel to you," he rumbled, as though he would whisper.

"No," she said, but could not really argue, because it was not untrue. "Why?"

"I needed you."

"You have me."

"No. You don't understand."

"Tell me, then."

"I can not. NO!" he released her and stood, pacing away. "No, I can not. Will not. I have said all that I can, all you need to know." He would not look at her, stared into the fire for a long moment, before his shoulders slumped and he bid her good night.

She sat in stunned silence, going over and over what they had said to one another. When the fire began to burn low and the cold was creeping into her bones, she rose and made her way upstairs. Lumiere was standing sentinel in the passageway. She stopped and looked at him. "If I had never come, what would have happened here, to all of you?"

"Why nothing. It all would have gone on as before." He puffed himself a bit brighter, "Tis ever so much livelier with you here, miss!"

She smiled and stepped away. By the time she reached her chamber she was trembling. She was almost certain that Beast would send her away in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect your author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _By the time she reached her chamber she was trembling. She was almost certain that Beast would send her away in the morning._

********THREE********

She allowed herself to be changed and bundled to bed. Laying there silent and still she considered her heart, her wishes, her options. She had never been afraid to act, and she refused to be so now. When she allowed her mind to run to what it would be like to stay here, with her Beast, she grew hot and liquid and tingly in her legs and breast and belly. She wanted him. She thought of his smell, of the feel of his hand, the strength and breadth of his body, the silky softness of his fur, his beautiful eyes.

She rose and wrapped herself in her wool robe, taking care to be silent to not disturb the slumbering furniture. Slipping out of her room, she made her way down the corridor, and into the forbidden wing of the house. She had been here before, but now every broken statue, every shattered mirror held new meaning. In all these years he had never allowed the evidence of his rage, of his loss, to be cleared away. He punished himself with it everyday. She approached the ripped portrait she had noticed last time. It was him, she realized with shock. She had felt the connection before, recognized the eyes. His eyes were the same.

She reached the inner door and paused. She ought not do this, perhaps. Invade his privacy. But she felt the urgency of last chances, of looming separation. If she were to be cast away tomorrow she would take tonight. She was in his room before she realized. The glowing rose in the corner before the window. The room stretched away, littered with shattered furniture. At the farthest wall she detected the small movement of his breathing from what might be termed a nest. As her eyes adjusted to the low light of the weak moon she could see it was a mattress upon the floor, a pile of blankets, and Beast.

She approached him, standing beside him quietly watching.

Suddenly he opened his eyes and stopped breathing. They stared at one another for a long tense moment.

"Belle?"

She reached out and laid her hand on his cheek.

"What are you doing! You can't be here! It is forbidden!" He leaped back, crouched.

"Even to me?" she asked, and kneeled on the bed, the heat and scent he left behind rising up to greet her.

"Yes! Especially to you! You must go. Leave me. In fact, in the morning you must -"

"NO! Do not send me away, not tonight. Why are you punishing yourself?"

He gaped at her.

"This room, you never allow them to enter, to clear it of this rage and pain. You hold it so close to yourself. Why?"

"I deserve it! It is my fault. I am nothing but a monster! I deserve-"

"Enough! It is enough now." She held out her hand, "Come here."

He held still and silent. "Please," she whispered. "I came all the way here. Please join me."

He shook his head, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. Then he shook violently and leaped forward, knocking her backwards into the bedding. Crouching over her, he snarled "I am a beast, Belle. You are in danger. I can not be other than I am. You must go, NOW!"

"I do not fear you," she said, her voice strong and steady. She reached up a hand and traced the features of his face. "I do not fear you. I do not hate you. I do not blame you."

Her fingers slide over his lips, and around his teeth.

"What do you want from me?" he gasp, his whole frame shaking in tension, holding himself suspended over her.

"You." She said, sliding her hands down his neck, to his shoulders. "No shirt." She grinned and examined him. He was wearing what she assumed was an undergarment. Soft loose short trousers. She could see he was aroused and the liquid tingly feeling returned. She sat up and he immediately moved to give her space. She untied her robe and slipped it off.

"What are you doing?" he asked, wary.

"Getting comfortable." She shifted around to lay down on the bed, shoving blankets and pillows out of the way. "Lay down."

He complied, keeping himself separate from her, and pulling a blanket up over his hips.

She shifted closer to him. "I don't know how to do this you know."

"Do what?"

She laughed, embarrassed. "Seduce you."

His eyes flew wide and his mouth dropped open. "What? You don't mean…" he paused as she nodded. "Why?" he breathed.

"The usual reasons, I imagine. I've never done so before, never wanted to, so I have no comparison. But I imagine that … well."

"But I'm… and your so beautiful, so perfectly lovely."

She blushed and looked down. "I'm glad you think so." She look up at him from beneath her lashes, reached for his cheek caressing him. "You are so striking. I love your eyes, they show so much of your feelings. You are so strong and I feel safe with you. You are so warm!" she exclaimed, sinking her hands into the fur around his neck, seeking out the warmth of him. When she reached his skin they both gasped.

She pressed herself closer to him, and pulled him toward her. She lifted her head and stared in his eyes a moment. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips a second before she pressed them to his, avoiding his teeth. As she drew his bottom lip between her own she felt his hand settle on her waist. He was so large it almost reached across her back. Her nightgown little barrier, and she felt the heat of him on her skin.

He moaned and pulled her closer. "I don't understand this Belle. I don't think … I don't know if I can control myself. You ought to return to your room."

"Please don't ask me to leave you, not tonight. I want to be with you."

He shook his head.

"Do you not want me?"

"Of course I do! I may be a beast but I'm still… I desire you Belle, of course I do. But it isn't right, I don't wish to defile you."

"Do you care for me? Respect me? Then neither of us shall be defiled."

She sucked his lip into her mouth again, biting down just a bit, then soothing with her tongue. She ran her hand across his shoulder and down his arm. Then across his abdomen, finding that he was ticklish on his ribs and that the the fur of on his belly was short and smooth and very soft, except the darker, wooly line the trailed down his center, disappearing below his waistband. She noticed that he was aroused again.

"Will you not touch me?" she asked, and reached up to kiss him again before burying her face into his neck. He pressed his face into her shoulder, then drug his nose up her neck. She shivered. He pulled back, "Are you certain?"

"Yes. I shall tell you if I wish to stop, I promise. Does that help?"

"Yes." He sniffed the side of her face and his hand caressed her ribs and waist and back through her gown.

She rolled to her back and his hand slid across her belly, then he pushed it up to encompass her breast. Slowly he massaged it, then traced one finger around and over, finding the nipple. She gasped.

"Are you well?"

"Oh, yes," she grabbed his finger and stroked her nipple with it, wriggling herself closer to him.

He watched her face and his hand upon her body. She continued to stroke and caress his chest and arms and shoulders while he explored her breasts, one after the other. His face returned again to the crock of her neck, his breath hot and damp against her skin. She abruptly rose, and he fell back onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. She pulled her gown over her head, dropping it near her robe. She stood naked in the moonlight, and looked down at him. He was glorious, broad shoulder, barrel chest, narrow hips, shiny and lustrous in the low light. His erection strained against the linen of his garment. She considered stripping it off, but lost her nerve. She needed to touch him.

She swung a leg across him, straddling his midsection and reached for the arm over his face. He jolted at her touch, her weight upon him. He found her eyes as she became aware that she was dripping wet and now making him so as well as she leaked over him, soaking the fur beneath her. She ground herself into him. "I'm marking you. You will smell like me now."

He rumbled and looked at her; she thought she hadn't seen him look so beastly since he had savagely destroyed the wolves that had menaced her.

She leaned over him, dragging her nipples against him. His hands reached up to her, wrapping around her waist, sliding to her hips. He shifted her so that he could reach her breasts with his tongue. It was long and hot and firm and he drug it over her nipples again and again. Swirling and licking, flicking. He pressed closer, his mouth near and wide. She thought he could take her whole breast into his mouth. "Take me in," she whimpered. And he did, careful to keep his teeth from her sensitive skin, he closed his hot wet mouth around her. His smooth palate and rough tongue pressing against her. She writhed against him, the sensation powerful, flowing from her breast to between her legs.

His hands slid around her hips and gripped her buttocks, thick fingers parting her cheeks. She tilted her pelvis so that his fingers came close to her sex.

Suddenly she was spinning and then the mattress was at her back and he was looming over her. "Let me look at you?" he asked, tentatively.

"Yes," she answered.

He looked, from her dark shiny hair tumbled over the bed, to her lovely face and wide dark eyes, her creamy smooth skin, her sloping shoulders and perfect breasts, pink nipples. Her ribs and waist narrowed, before she flared again at the hip. Her little navel nestled into her middle. Her legs were sleek and strong. He thought he had never seen anything as delicate and perfect as her little feet. Raising his eyes he found the dark wiry hair between her legs. "Let me see you?" he asked.

She slid her legs apart, folding one knee up to open herself to his inspection. He traced the contours of the labia, drank in the musky womanly scent of her arousal, saw it coating her tissues and, when his hand reached to rest against his belly, he realized it coated him as well.

"Touch me?" she whispered.

He sought her eyes for clarification. His hand reached out to her foot. Tracing the delicate bones and tendons with the sensitive tips of his finger, pressing the soft pad of this palm against the bottom of her foot, then up the back of her calf and the round flesh of the thigh. He reached the crease of her hip and pressed his fingers into her low belly. Then down into the hair, he combed his claws. She shivered.

His fingers pressed over her mons and she pressed up into them, one sinking between her folds into hot wetness. He touched her carefully, watching her reactions and soon felt her tensing and shuddering as he massaged her clitoris. He was amazed and dumbfounded. She reached down and grasped his hand; he stilled. She pressed his finger, as big as three of her own, into her opening. It was tight, and she flopped back into the pillow and breathed, relaxing her muscles. And then his finger was within and she rocked back and forth until he caught onto the rhythm. He was soon exploring her from the inside. She slid a hand down to stroke her clit while he pressed her from within. As soon as he figured out what she was doing he took over.

She touched what of him she could reach. His shoulders and arms, sliding her fingers into his fur, seeking the skin underneath, the slip and stretch of the muscles below. He was warm, and so large leaning over her. She felt encompassed by him. His body, his scent, his eyes moving from her face to her core, his hands upon and within. Oh God, it was too much. She gasped and panted, her hips rocking against the intrusion of his finger, the pressure of his thumb. It was wonderful, just right. The heavy liquid feeling gathered and sunk deep claws within her dragging her down, down. Until she was just at the edge. She looked into his wide glittering eyes, and she fell. Crying out her release she clenched against his finger and thrust her self up toward him, panting, almost sobbing.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect your author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _She looked into his wide glittering eyes, and she fell._

********FOUR********

When she opened her eyes some minutes later he was beside her, his hand gently stroking over her belly. "Are you well?"

"Oh, so much better than well," she replied with a lazy grin. He responded with a smile of his own; if he had any other face she would say he smirked.

"I love you," she whispered.

He froze, and stared at her. Silent and still for a long moment. Eventually he rolled away from her, covering his face with his arm. Nothing had changed. All of the waiting, all the fragile hope, was for naught. He was cursed and all his people with him. Forever. Nothing could change that, could change what he was, the brutish soul made visible.

She was horrified a moment, thinking he was embarrassed to hear her declaration, that he was rejecting her. Then she felt him trembling, and a low keening began. He was crying! She pulled herself up over him, griping his arm to pull it away from his face. Touching his brow, his cheek, his wet eye, she whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you. Please don't hide yourself from me."

He opened his eyes to her dear beautiful face, her hair a wild cascade over her. Tomorrow he would send her home, he would not trap her in his gilded prison. But tonight, he would keep her, love her as well as a creature such as he could.

Her fingers slide up to the impossibly soft fur around his ears and he began a rumbling purr. She giggled and he looked away, "Sorry."

"Oh, no don't be sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I've never heard you… I like it." She fondled and caressed his ears and the base of his horns. His breathing sped up, and she rose and fell with his breaths. She looked in his eye as she deliberately moved her caressing hands from his ears to his neck, his chin, his shoulder. Finding the shape and feel of him, the texture of his fur, the slide of skin over muscle. His shoulders and arms, so broad and strong. His chest, his ribs, she found he had nipples, flat and almost bare. She pushed aside the surrounding fur and leaned her head down, swiping her tongue against him. It pebbled up and he rumbled, more a growl than a purr, now. She lowered her mouth again, kissing one then the other, then drawing it in, suckling on him.

His hands had been gliding over her back, now gripped her hips and pulled her close. She had shifted down in her exploration and she could feel the hot length of his erection against her leg, the waist band of his garment at her center. She shifted around so that she straddled him, and pressed herself into the tip of his erection. They both groaned. And she continued her exploration of him. His sides and belly. She searched for a navel, his muscles contracting against her nimble fingers. When she reached the barrier of his clothes she slide away, to his feet. Marveling over the complex formation, the strength and power. She ran her hands up his legs, over his powerful thighs, sliding her hand up beneath him to squeeze at his haunch then fondle his tail. He groaned and rocked his lower body. "Belle, Belle. Enough, please."

"You wish to stop?"

"I can't take anymore. Please."

She chose to interpret that in a way that pleased her rather than the reverse, confident that if he was truly displeased he would let her know.

She lifted herself and kneeled next to him, gripping the waist of his pants and pulling them down, easing them over his erection and past his tail, off his legs. He looked down at her in wary, excited wonder. "What do you mean to do?

"See you. Touch you. Please you." She looked up to his eyes, "Will you let me?"

He sighed, and nodded.

She returned her gaze to his hips, and the erection that stood up from between his legs, curving up over his belly. It was massive, was her first thought, but then all of him was. It was the size of her arm, elbow to wrist. It wasn't human, but it wasn't recognizable as anything else, as she thought some discrete parts of his person were. Not that she was an expert in mammal genitalia. But it fit his frame and his person, it was his, him, and she thought it magnificent. It tapered slightly from base to tip, the head blunt and flared slightly. She placed her hands on this upper thighs while she examined him. Then slide them up, smoothing her hand over his flesh, pressing his cock into his belly.

She almost startled realizing he was hairless, or nearly so, here. She could see so, of course, but it didn't register until she touched him. He was hard, swollen and rigid, yet his soft delicate skin slid over him. He grunted and called her name. She placed her hands around him, one over the other, neither reaching around his girth. Sliding up then back down, she felt him grow that little bit larger, firmer.

She shifted her lower body closer to him, swung her leg over his so she straddled his thigh, pressing herself into him. From this position, she saw his balls tucked below in the shadow, and reached down with one hand to fondle them while the other continued to stroke him. His testes were like peaches, round and fuzzy. Feeling moisture against her hand at his tip, her attention returned to his erection, she flicked her finger against the slit, gathering the liquid and spreading it over him. He gasped and trust up, against her. She applied both of her hands to him, and concentrated on discovering the touch he liked the best. Soon he was panting and rolling his hips.

"Belle, Belle. I'm going to…you must stop, or I will…"

"I don't want to stop. Come for me, let me give you pleasure. Please."

He was lost in the exquisite feel of her hands on him, her voice, the smell of her, of her arousal. He had dreamed of her, of this, but reality was so much more… everything. And then the hot rush of release overtook him and he roared and bucked.

She found herself precariously perched on his leg, both hands gripping his spurting penis, and she held on, squeezing him, as his hot slick semen dripped over her hands, down to his body, across her breast. He quieted and relaxed, she gentled her hands on him, spreading his come over his skin. She realized he was still rather hard. And she was aching.

She lifted herself to straddle his hips, pressing her crotch against his cock as it lay against his belly. Grinding herself against him, she watched his face. He was languid, dazed, until he felt her hot slide against his flesh. His eyes flew to hers, then to where their bodies fit and slid together. She tilted her pelvis, dragging herself over him, grinding her most sensitive bits against his. Her hands braces against his ribs, her breasts swinging as she moved over him.

His arousal spiked again, his member growing as rigid and tight as before. She groaned, feeling the change, and slid forward and back, again and again. Pausing at the tip, she rotated her hips, her clitoris against the head of his cock. She ached, needing more. Wanting to pull him inside her, to press them together. She considered attempting to take him in. She could never take the full length of him. But the girth was the immediate problem. She would stretch, she knew. But she couldn't bear the idea of him thinking he was injuring her. So she concentrated on the slick heat between her legs, the throb of his pulse, or was it hers, where they pressed together. The almost desperate wild look in his eyes. His hands gripping her hips, caressing her buttocks and thighs. As her clit swelled it caught against the tip of him, she gasped, and he held her there, pressing up from below her, increasing the pressure and thrusting gently against her. Her eyes rolled back as pleasure swamped her and she lost control of her movements. He continued to thrust, steady, insistent. And she was lost, she cried out and jerked against him, arching, she would have fallen if he hadn't caught her, pulled her down against him.

She opened her eyes to find her breasts pressed against thick fur of his chest, her arms draped over him, his hands holding her tightly against him, his cock trapped between their bodies as he moved beneath her. In moments he growled, his body going still and his arms clamping around her tightly. She could feel every exquisite pulse of his cock in its release. Hot wetness spread between them. When he had stilled and they laid together for a long moment, she realized she was wet, sticky, from her collar bone to her thighs. She propped herself up and looked down at him.

"We need a bath."

He looked at her, glistening with his come, reeking of him and her combined. He grinned. The moment of proud masculine satisfaction unhindered by grief or guilt. He bent his head forward and reached out his tongue, licking her neck and jaw and ear.

"No," she giggled, "Not that it wouldn't be wonderful. But a real bath, with water."

He frowned. "We would have to wake the staff for hot water."

"Oh. No, let's not. Just you and me tonight." She nestled back into him for a moment until the sticky mess in his fur began to irritate. "Cold water it is then."

They rose and stirred up the fire before taking very brief, very cold baths. Teasing and playing and shivering. He treasured up every glance of her, smiling and laughing and naked. So beautiful.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _He treasured up every glance of her, smiling and laughing and naked. So beautiful._

********FIVE********

When they had finished bathing and dried, she laughing delightedly at his shaking the water from himself, he sat before the fire and pulled her down with him. He carded his fingers through her hair. He could still smell himself on her, faintly, and it made him ache. They spoke of nothing significant while his fur and her hair dried before the fire, and she warmed up from her cold bath.

She must have fallen asleep for the next thing she knew she woke in the bed, curled in the blankets, alone. She looked around the room, finding him sitting across from her in the corner, hunched on the floor in the dark.

"What are you doing over there, come to bed," she said, sleepily.

"I can't. Go back to sleep, it is still early."

She pushed herself up, "You can't? Why not? Please come over here."

"No, Belle. I can't. I'm not strong enough."

"You are the strongest person I know."

"No! Not strong enough to resist you. And I am not a person," he growled.

"Don't resist me, then. And you are a wonderful person."

"I must. I must release you. I can not subject you to my punishment, my prison. In the morning... Please let me watch you until then. Till the morning."

"Release me! You mean to send me away!"

"I will not hold you here any longer Belle."

She rose from the bed and went to him, kneeling before him. His eyes were devastated, bleak.

"If you expel me, I can not stop you. You are stronger than I, and this is your castle. But I do not wish to go, I will not leave you voluntarily."

"You must! You should have a real life. You must return to… to your friends, your father. Find a man, a real man, who will love you as you should be loved. Have a family. Be happy. I can not take that from you."

She stood, and held out her hand to him. "Come to the fire if you won't join me in bed. I'm cold."

He rose and they settled before the fire again, she curled herself into his lap. "Do you know what I used to dream of, before?"

He shook his head.

"Adventure. New places and experiences. Of finding friends who would enjoy thinking and reading and learning like I do, who wouldn't think I'm odd."

"You're not odd."

"You are one to talk," she smiled up at him. "You might not think so, but almost everyone I've ever known did. I didn't have friends, or not many. They all laughed and whispered."

"You should go to a better village, or city, where people are able to appreciate you."

She shook her head. "I don't think it's as easy as that." She was silent a moment, and picked up his hand, caressing the pads of his palm. "You are so powerful, strong, and I am at your mercy, here. But you haven't bullied or coerced me."

"I did. I made you chose, to save your father. It was cruel. And I yelled at you."

"You did. At first. But you learned to speak to me soon." She lifted his hand up and pressed kisses into it. "Would you have let me leave yesterday, had I asked."

"Yes."

"And the day before?"

"Yes."

"The day you showed me the library?"

He hesitated a moment, "Yes."

"The day you saved me from the wolves?"

He stared at her, "You came back."

"Yes."

He looked away. "I can never give you more than this isolated place. It will be a prison to me forever, I will be imprisoning you here as well. There is no hope, now."

She pushed away, and demanded, "What does that mean? No hope now?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

"I will not! What hope? What has changed?"

"You! You love me!"

"Yes! Why should that destroy your hope?" she asked confused and afraid.

"It doesn't, it is wonderful. Amazing, I can hardly believe it." He pulled her close, cuddling into her. "But it's not enough, somehow. It was supposed to be enough, but I'm still… still a beast," he spat.

"It was supposed to be enough? For what?" She looked at him again, "To break the spell, you mean? That is why you needed me? To break the spell?" She pulled away from him, standing and pulling her robe around her.

"The curse was to last until I loved and was loved in return. I had until the rose lost its bloom. But it wasn't true. When you came here, I was angry. I hurt and was afraid, and imprisoned your father. But then you came, and the others, they insisted that it was possible. They had hope that you could be the one, and I was tempted to … to hope as well."

She turned back to watch him as his story poured forth, her rigid posture relaxing slightly.

"And then, you where so… frustrating, and kind, and wonderful. I… I began to … care, not just because of the curse, but… I didn't want to be alone anymore. I…I… it was selfish. I ought to have released you long ago. But I thought, that maybe the curse would break, and someday I could give you a real life, a home here and … and love you properly, as a man. But it was a lie." He seemed to collapse into himself, his hand covering his eyes. "I will be punished forever, and the castle with me. There is no hope."

"You said that the curse was to break if you loved and were loved in return."

He nodded, silent.

"Do you love me?" she asked in a small voice.

He looked up at her, "Yes. Yes, I love you! It's not enough!"

She approached him and took his hand in hers, "It is all I wanted, your love. I am sorry about the curse, I don't understand more than you. But perhaps it is too hasty to give over all hope. Perhaps it is a process, it may take time, or a sunrise, or a new moon, or some other such thing."

He shook his head. "I can not hold you here on such a slim prospect. You must go, and be happy."

"Should you like to know about the life you would send me back to? You wish me to return and find a man to marry."

He looked stricken and turned away, "Yes. You deserve to be happy."

"Perhaps. But I could not be happy that way. What sort of man do you suppose wants to marry the beautiful but odd girl? There is Gaston, who is everything on the outside that you are not, classically handsome, a perfect specimen of human masculinity."

He growled under his breath, pulling away from her. She moved close again, curling tightly into his lap. "On the inside he is everything you fear that you are. Arrogant, and selfish, cruel and brutish. He cares not a wit about me, never listens to me, disrespects and demeans me, while demanding he be adulated. He wishes to posses me because he thinks I am the prettiest girl and he covets the best."

"You don't want him? But he persisted? Did he harm you?" he asked low and demanding.

She placed a hand to his cheek to sooth him. "No, he has not harmed me. But I don't imagine I shall be able to avoid him forever. I had hoped he would grow bored and distracted before … before it was too late."

"You friends, neighbors, your father -can they not help you? Protect you from him? Convince him to leave you be?"

"He is admired wherever he goes. And I am just the odd bookish girl. My father is… he means well, and he cares for me, but he doesn't see, he isn't able to …" she shrugged.

"Then don't go back there. You can go wherever you wish."

"I wish to stay with you. No!" she stopped his protest. "I will leave if you demand it. But I'm asking you to stay. I have stayed these many weeks because I wished to, I have not changed my mind."

"But it's different now. There is no hope, no … no happy resolution."

"I never chose to stay with any expectation of change. I love you, just as you are. I want to be with you."

He pulled her close, afraid to believe, afraid to let her go, afraid to let her stay. He imagined how it would be, with her words of love and acceptance echoing in his ear, to expel her from here. Would she cry? Yell? Would she hug him and wish him well, with her eyes sad and regretful? He could not bear to do it. Perhaps he was selfish and weak, but he could not bear it.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He curled his large body around her and she snuggled into him. "I do not know what the future holds, but I shall not give over hope. You may never be other than you are, but I hope for happiness and love. Please do not despair."

He watched her sleep, considering her words. She had loved him and given herself to him without any expectation that he would be other than he was. He had loved her, true, but always with the expectation, the hope, that he would be released from the curse. That he would be made a man again, and could then truly love her.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

" _You may never be other than you are, but I hope for happiness and love. Please do not despair._ _"_

 _She had loved him without any expectation that he would be other than he was. He had loved her with the hope that he would be released from the curse. That he would be made a man again, and could then truly love her._

********SIX********

In the morning sun Belle examined the shattered remains of his room. She had seen it before, but never so well lit. It was a suite of rooms, the first, where the rose was, had probably been a sitting room, based on the remnants of furniture there. Where they were now was through a set of double doors, standing open, and had been the bed chamber. There was also a dressing room and another set of doors that were closed.

She felt his eyes on her. "Good morning."

"Good morning. How are you this morning?"

She blushed but met his eye, "I am very well." She stretched, pressing against him. "How are you?"

"Bewildered."

She chuckled. "What is beyond that door?"

"The mistresses chambers."

"Oh." She chewed her lip until his finger brushed over it. "I am staying, correct. We settled that last night?"

He sighed, "Yes, for as long as you wish."

"For always."

"What about your father?"

"Poppa?" She looked away and frowned. "He must be so worried. Can I write to him, do you think? Perhaps he could visit in the spring."

"Visit?" he looked aghast.

"Yes, visit. It isn't like he would be …shocked. He knows what you are."

"But he doesn't know what…" he glanced down at their bodies, close together and nearly naked, their legs intertwined.

"Well, no. But it can not be to surprising that I should take a husband. He will adjust."

"Husband?" he squeaked.

"Well, perhaps I am ahead of myself," she blushed and turned away.

"No priest would consent to bind you to such a thing as I."

"I need no priest to bind myself to you." She turned back to look into his bright eyes.

"You would marry me?" he said in wonder.

"Yes. Are you asking?"

"I… I hardly know. I had hoped that once the … the curse broke that you might, that we might. But now…I"

She stopped him with a kiss. "Will you love me, honor me, respect me and keep me, forsaking all others, for as long as we live?"

"Yes."

"I promise to love you and keep you, honor and respect you, forsake all others, to choose to stay with you, always."

"Ought we not have a ceremony?"

"If you wish. The staff will like to see it I think. And I should like to move my things into here."

"You wish to move to the mistress chamber?"

"Well, perhaps. I would like to share your bed. But I shall need a dressing room."

He leapt up and pulled her up with him. He hurried over to the connecting door, flinging it open. The room swirled with eddies of dust, gloomy with heavy curtains pulled over the windows, musty with disuse. "Oh!" He stepped back, she had joined him. "Oh dear. This needs some work."

Just then there was a tapping at the outer door to his rooms and Cogsworth's voice could be heard. He grimaced, and went to see to the faithful retainer. Belle could hear her own name and the servants anxious voice. Beast answered calmly and with authority. He returned and answered her unasked question. "They discovered you missing and have been a bit frantic. He came to alert me."

"Oh! What did you say?" she asked with a blush.

"I assured him that I knew where you were and that you were well. And asked that breakfast be laid out for us in half an hour."

"Oh, my. They will all know!"

"We can return you to your room without much suspicion, I think."

"I do not wish to …to hide. I am not ashamed of loving you. But, I would like…well, some privacy."

"Indeed. Well I will help you return to your chamber, then we can make plans." He looked around his rooms, "You can not live here. It is unfit."

"Then we shall restore it."

They hurried to return to her room where she dressed and prepared for the day. He met her at the table and they enjoyed a hearty warm meal, then retired to the library.

"How would you like to proceed?" he asked.

"We need to make an announcement to the staff, I think. We need their help to clean the rooms."

"You wish to do so right away?"

"Yes, I thought perhaps we might make the announcement, then set to work on clearing and repairing the rooms. Surely there is adequate furniture to replace the damaged in you rooms.

"My rooms as well as the mistress chamber?"

"Yes. If they are not suitable for me then they will not do for you. It has been long enough; you have punished yourself long enough. It is time to live now."

He nodded, uncertain. But she continued, "Can we have a wedding this evening? I thought perhaps that once most of the staff were at work in the east wing, that I would arrange with Chef to prepare a special meal for all of us. Then this evening we can surprise them."

"Tonight? So soon?"

"Are you getting cold feet? You pledged yourself to me this morning." She asked with a gentle smile at his skittishness.

"No, no I … well, I … Belle, they will be … disappointed. I hate to, to deprive them of their hope."

"Disappointed? OH! They expected the curse to break as well! Oh, no!" she cried out with tears flooding her eyes. "Oh, I am sorry! I had not thought…"

She was sobbing by the time he pulled her into his embrace, cuddling her close and rocking her, murmuring reassurance and comfort to her. "We shall love each other as best we can, Belle. It is all we can do."

"I love you. And I'm so sorry I wasn't enough." She stiffened and pulled away. He realized what she was thinking a moment before she spoke.

"No, Belle. No! You will not think that, it is false and ridiculous. You can not believe that another's love would be somehow better. It is nonsensical! Besides the ridiculous idea that another could love me, could see me, truly and love me, no one could love with more generosity and fierceness than you. Nor can you think that I could stop loving you and try again with some other woman! I could not, I would not. I am not that fickle; my love for you is not so moveable."

"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove."*

"O no! It is an ever-fixed mark" he continued, before leaning over her and pressing his lip and tongue to her lips in a similitude of a kiss. She buried her hands in at his neck and pulled herself against him, sucking his lip into her mouth.

"Oh! Urm, uh, excuse me." They heard behind them, and startled apart, looking back at Mrs. Potts, moving quickly out the door, with a tea cart.

"Mrs. Potts, wait please," he called, looking at her for permission. She grinned at him.

"Mrs. Potts, we have something to share you with."

* * *

*Shakespeare, Sonnet 116


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

" _Mrs. Potts, we have something to share you with._ _"_

********SEVEN********

And so they told the faithful housekeeper that they intended to marry. She was overjoyed, then confused. "But what about? I mean, the… and you…?"

"Mrs. Potts," Belle spoke gently, kindly, "I understand you had expected the curse to break upon, well, your master finding love. I assure you that we do love one another. We have no idea why the curse has not lifted. But we haven't given over hope, and we ask you not to either. The staff will need you, they will not understand and will be disappointed as well."

"Of course," she sniffled, "Of course, I shall do what I can. Do you suppose that in time, that… it will lift?"

"We do not know. I hope, we both do, especially for your sake, that it does. Perhaps as we learn to love one another better or perhaps there is yet some factor out of reach. But we mean to live and be happy, regardless."

"Oh, my dear girl! I am so happy that you have come. I will admit I am, I am disappointed, and afraid. But I am so very glad the master has found you."

With that she was gone, arranging to gather the staff in the ball room, where the general announcement was made. It was a long difficult meeting, the Beast suffered greatly in disappointing the hopes of the staff. But at the end of an hour, they had settled down and taken up their assignments. There was work to do and it was their job to see it done.

Belle made her arrangements with Chef, then went to see her wardrobe about a gown, and about having her things moved to the eastern wing. That lady was surprised, and slightly scandalized. But she did her best to dress her mistress in glowing silk.

That night the staff was called together again into the ball room. They were met by their master and his love, standing together at the head of the room.

"You are all more than my staff, you have become my friends, our friends, our family. We could not think of proceeding with out including you in our celebration. Belle and I have asked you here to witness the joining together of our lives."

They turned then, and spoke the words of the wedding ceremony to each other. The staff gasping and smiling as they realized what they were seeing. When it was done, he turned to them, "May I present your new mistress to you?" A cheer went up from the assembled.

"Chef has prepared a special meal for us all tonight. Let us enjoy it, then I should like you all to take the night and tomorrow to rest and relax. Thank you for all your extra work today."

The next hour was joyful and loud as the household celebrated and determined to hold onto their hope.

The Beast and Belle slipped out of the crowd and up the steps to their chambers. Belle had yet to see them, and he was anxious to show her. He held open the door, and invited her in, first to the sitting room, which was cleared and furnished, if scantly. The rose yet sat under its cloche on a table. The room was well lit and newly hung curtains graced the tall windows and french door.

He led her next to her chamber, which adjoined this one also. It was clean and fresh. The furniture fine and delicate, old fashioned but polished to gleaming. The bed and window draping were fresh and of blue and ivory. The bed was covered in new linens. She looked into her dressing room, and found her few belongings, as well as toiletries and linen, a deep tub.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. It is lovely! Thank you."

She took his hand and led him to the door which connected to his room. Stepping through she gasped. The room had been transformed. All the broken and torn remnants removed. In their place thick rugs covered the floor, a huge bed dominated the far wall, and a wide sofa sat to one side of the fire. The wood was dark and heavy, the drapes and bed coverings rich jewel tones.

He lead her to the sofa and settled them there, handing her a glass of wine.

"This is surreal," he said. "I'm not sure I am not dreaming."

"I am quite real I assure you." She smiled at him over her goblet, "Shall I prove it to you?"

He watched her set aside her glass and move over to him, kneeling next to him on the seat. She reached up and stroked his ear until he purred. Then his brows, pressing kisses to his lids when they slid closed. She caressed and kissed him until he was shifting in his seat, uncomfortably confined in his clothes. She stood and took his hand, leading him to the bed.

"This is our wedding night. Love me."

He nodded, and stepped toward her. His large hand caressing her shoulder and her arms, her waist and back. He was fumbling along her back and she turned away, giving him access.

He grunted, "They are too small! I can not do them."

She looked over her shoulder, "Rip it."

And so he did, from neck to hip he rent the garment in two, finding underneath layers of more clothing. These she removed herself as he watched until she was standing in her shift before him, her hair cascading down her back. She shoved her hands under his coat and over his shoulders, pulling it off. Next went his waistcoat and shoes. She ran her hands over the shirt covering his chest. "I used to imagine what was under this shirt, you know. You wore it to protect my modesty, perhaps, but it only spurned my imagination."

She pulled it out of his trousers and shoved it upwards until he grasped it and pulled it over his head. She did the same to her shift. Then he stepped out of his trousers and was left in his small clothes. She climbed up on the bed and laid back, watching him. He advanced toward her.

"Those too."

He hesitate just a moment before dropping his drawers.

"You are magnificent," she breathed.

He crawled up on the bed and lay beside her, his hand spanning her belly.

He spent many long moments telling her how beautiful she was to him, and caressing her in appreciation. She finally silenced him with her mouth on his, she stroked her tongue into his mouth along his, he reciprocated, groaning when she drew his tongue between her lips and sucked. His hand drifted down her body, the textures of his claw, his furred hingers, his fleshy palm surprising and titillating her. When he covered her mound with his hand she moaned and opened her legs to him in invitation. He did not hesitate, petting and stroking against her. She buried her face in his neck as she flooded with moisture.

She pulled back and looked up at him. "Tell me your name, your true name"

He stopped, and pulled back. "I have no name. I am the Beast."

"You had a name once. What did your mother call you?"

"I am not him anymore."

She pushed up and looked closely into his bright blue eyes. "I don't believe that. You are, I see you. You got lost for a while, and have changed. But your eyes, your soul, is yet your own."

He looked away, and shook his head.

"I could not love you as I do if it wasn't so. You shall not convince me otherwise. Please, please share yourself with me. Let me know you, love you."

"Adam. I was called Adam, once," he whispered.

"Adam. I love you Adam." She cuddled into him, gripping his neck and rubbing her body against his, "My husband, Adam."

He growled, overcome and held her close, drawing his hands down her back and grabbing her buttocks. His erection strained between then and he pressed her into it.

"Adam," she gasped, "I want to make love to you."

"We are, I will make you feel good Belle. I want to make you feel good."

"Yes. I mean, no." She shook her head and stilled him, "I mean, I would like to have intercourse."

He gaped at her, "Surely not! I… it would not,- No, Belle."

"Yes. I want you, I want you inside of me, Oh, God, I want to feel you come, fill me with your self."

"I can't, we can't, darling. I would hurt you. I …"

"Adam, I assure you it can be done. No, listen, please. My body will stretch to accommodate. Not perhaps the whole length of you. But still."

"No, Belle, You are small, and I am too misshapen."

"Misshapen! I hardly call this," she pumped her hand down over his cock, "a deformity. My god." she stared at him, lustfully.

He caught on, then. "How, Belle. How is it to be done. I could not bear to harm you."

"I must stretch, gradually, and with lots of fluid, I think."

He nodded and began to tease and stroke her again, then slide his finger within. Even that, as last night, was a snug enough fit. He shook his head, "I don't think it will work."

"Adam, my body is designed to expel a babe from there, you can not imagine that your erection, as magnificent as it is, is the size of a babe."

He stilled, images of her swollen with child, with his child, flashed through his mind. It was surely not possible while he was cursed. But it was alluring and an aching desire lodged itself into his heart.

She seemed to realize his thoughts, "Someday, I hope we shall have our own child."

His head dropped to her shoulder and he breathed her in, calming himself, before his attention drifted to her breasts. He used his tongue over her nipples and in swirling patterns over her breasts. His finger began moving within her, he pressed against her walls, up and down and side to side. He considered adding another finger, but it was too much. He shifted down her body and applied his tongue to her folds, groaning and rumbling at the taste and smell of her. She was writhing and close to insensible. When she came hard, moments later, it was around his tongue and finger. He withdrew and lay beside her.

As soon as she had her wits she crawled over him, tasting herself on his lips and teeth. She soon abandoned his face in favor of the turgid flesh pulsing between their bodies. She dragged every inch of her self down him, until she was kneeling between his legs, his balls trapped between her thighs, and her breasts pressed on either side of his erection. She took him up and stroked him. She look up to see his eyes intent on her, on her body pressed to him so luridly. The blunt tip of him was rising and falling at her chin, she paused and bent her head to kiss it. Then she licked over the head and he grunted, shuddering. She grinned and continued her movements, up and down pressing him between her breasts. Her nipples had grown stiff and tight, the movement of his cock, the smell of him, the feel of his eyes on her caused her to tingle.

She paused every few strokes to caress him with her mouth until she had ceased moving her breasts and taken his length in her hands, her mouth on his tip. She slid her lips over him and took him inside. It was the first time his sex had entered her body at all. She looked up to find his eyes, they were deep and shining with knowledge and desire. She swirled her tongue over him and sucked as best she could with such a mouthful. He fought back this trusts, rolling his hips just slightly. She clamped her thighs around his balls and he stilled. Trapped or distracted she wasn't sure. But she couldn't do this if he thrusted.

So she stroked and sucked him, licking and pressing sucking kisses into the shaft. And she felt his balls tighten and draw up from between her thighs and she redoubled her efforts. Her mouth was over him again, sucking as her hand gripped him when he called out to her. She pulled her head away, letting his balls go and letting him thrust up against her pumping hands as he came, thick streams of semen falling over her and his belly. She crawled up his body as he collapsed.

"My god. That was…."

"Yeah. I rather like being married to you."

He chuckled, then scooped her up and carrying her into the bathing chamber. He had arranged to have hot water left in buckets in the hearth, ready for them. So he bathed her in warm water and then cleaned himself and took her back to bed.

They slept and woke several times to love each other again and again. By the morning he had succeeded in pressing two of his fingers into her. She only winced a little and when she came she screamed her pleasure. When the sun rose they watched each other in peaceful quiet, drowsy and replete. Happy.

Until they heard a commotion from below. The Beast leapt from the bed and pulled on a pair of trousers and went to the door, demanding to know what had happened.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _When the sun rose they watched each other in peaceful quiet, drowsy and replete. Happy._

 _Until they heard a commotion from below._

********EIGHT********

A dazed and giddy Lumiere brought the news. Chip had been missing, and when he was found, was found to be a confused and naked little boy, a human one.

The Beast stumbled back to his bed, where Belle sat against the pillows. She demanded to know what had happened and he told her. She gasped. And shouted, and cried, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Mrs. Potts must be so happy!"

And they soon made their way below to join in examining the boy and rejoicing with their friends. Chip was less than pleased. He could not like such attention and felt awkward and unwieldy in an unfamiliar body. And his mother was as a stranger to him, almost.

Belle saw the awkwardness between the two and stepped in, settling the child on her lap and inviting Mrs. Potts close. They talked of where Chip would sleep and what it meant to need to wear clothes and shoes, and all the wonderful things boys with two legs can do. So by this was he comforted and his mother reassured that her child would not be without protection. The household fell back into its rhythm for the day. Excepting the newlyweds who retreated to their private rooms.

They discussed the meaning of Chip's change and examined the rose. The Beast told her all he knew of it and the woman who had cast the spell.

They spent some time reading together and speaking of other less demanding things before they ate and fell into bed together. They were gentle and reverent with each other. He was determined to learn every inch of her and turned her over and spent long, long minutes massaging and caressing her back and buttocks, legs and arms. He eventually pressed his fingers into her cleft and discovered the joy of watching her take her pleasure from this new aspect. He found that he could stimulate her from within this way in a new way and soon had flipped her back over to try it again while looking at her face. When she had come for the third time and was sobbing her release, he pushed in a second finger. She winced and shifted beneath him and he apologized and began to pull out.

"No, wait. Let me adjust." She distracted him by grabbing his erection and pulling him toward her. She traced the veins and ridges along his shaft, ran her tongue along them and when he was twitching and groaning, he began to move his hand away again and she halted. "Leave you're fingers inside. I will pleasure you, but leave them in."

So he did; and she did, and when he came she cupped her hand around his tip and caught his fluids. This was less messy, until she spread them over his cock. He had come so many times in the last two days he was not as hard still as he had been that first time.

But she was persistent and asked him to use his tongue on her. Within ten minutes he was hard and slick in her hand, and she was dripping wet and swollen, coating his fingers with her juices.

"Are you ready to try?" she asked.

"Try what?"

"Take your fingers out," she gasped and pushed him onto his back. She grasped him and lifted herself, positioning her opening against him. He felt so hot and good against her, she felt needy and empty, on edge.

"Belle! Are you sure? Already?"

"No, I'm not sure. But I want you Adam, I want you inside me."

She pushed down and back against him. It was awkward. "Hold yourself," she asked. And then braced herself with both hands against his chest. This improved her stability and her angle.

She pressed again, and felt him slip past her lips and partially into her opening. And it burned and she halted. Breathing, waiting to see how it felt. The burn eased and she relaxed.

He watched her closely. Massively aroused and desperate to feel her against him. But just as afraid to hurt her. He reached up and caressed her breast with his hand.

She pressed back again, and he slid in several inches. She was so wet, and he was slick. She gasped in surprise and pain. Oh, god, it hurt. Burned and stretched. She panted and forced herself to relax, relax. As she did much of the pain subsided. Not all, but enough.

"Are you well?" he asked, worriedly. "We can stop. Let's stop."

"No. No, I am well. I don't want to stop." She met his eyes, "I have you inside me Adam, and I am not ready to let you go."

She relaxed her thighs and let her body weight carry her down, empaling herself on him. The burn returned, but this time she relaxed more easily and she was able to move again soon enough.

She reached down to caress her clit while she slid herself slowly up and down him. He groaned loudly and cursed. They both watched fascinated as he disappeared into her body.

He shifted her soon to a more comfortable position so she could lay over him, rocking back and forth instead of up and down. He tried to slide his hand between them to caress her, but she said no. She rocked her pelvis so that with each stroke she pressed her clit into his body and his cock stretched and pressed into delightful places within her. She didn't think it was likely she would come this first time. She was still hurting. But as he began to tense beneath her and his hips rolled just slightly, escaping his control, she looked at the pleasure and wonder on his dear face and gasped in painful release. Her contractions around him broke his control and he trusted harder up into her. He hit her cervix and she cried out, moving herself up a bit. He thrust several more times, and flooded her. She could feel his hot come fill her body and leak out around his member coating their bodies. It was exquisite. And while she was glad the first time was over and she hoped for less pain in the future, she would not have given up this feeling for anything.

He carefully tended to her, cleaning them both, and when he found blood in their combined fluids and still leaking slightly from her after he cleaned her his expression turned fierce. He declared they would never do that again. He was a brute and had torn her.

She chuckled at him and shook her head. He had rejoined her in the bed, having requested a light meal be sent up.

"You find yourself having an experience many, many human men expect to have on their wedding nights and declare yourself a brute. What does that say about the majority of men, do you think?"

He gaped at her and demanded an explanation. Which she provided. He was appalled that men expected to hurt their brides, make them bleed, in order to claim them.

"How is this not something you knew?"

"Well, perhaps I did." He looked abashed, "But it isn't something I have thought of in … a long time."

She demanded to then know about his life before. How old he was and who he lived with, where his parents had gone, who his friends were, if he had had any lovers.

He told her as though he was speaking of another person, vaguely recalling some details.

They slept then and when she awoke in the night he refused to accommodate her demands, insisting she rest and recuperate.

When morning came they were silent and tense, both trying not to hope for another miracle like yesterday, but failing. No such thing seemed apparent when they went down for breakfast. The house was as usual, except for a small boy heard running the corridors.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _The house was as usual, except for a small boy heard running the corridors._

********NINE********

And so it went, small changes where taking place around the castle, but were only sporadically noticed. This gave the impression that a piece of the curse lifted every few days, but no pattern was discerned.

It was a week later before another person returned to themselves, two milk maids emerged from the milk shed, blinking and bare and shivering. They were dressed and coddled and feted. After that, as spring descended on the castle, so to did a change of another nature. As the frost and snow melted the curse fled away.

As this was happening the Beast noticed Belle sometimes distracted and sad. He insisted she tell him, certain she was displeased by his remaining a beast, or she regretted her decision to stay. But no, she said. She simply missed her father, and had decided that it was best to wait to contact him until the castle was restored to normalcy. It would be difficult to have stranger in at such a time.

Beast took her to their chambers and showed her the mirror, calling up a vision of her father. He was unwell, and she cried. Beast considered and said, "You should go to him."

"I cannot leave you."

"Only for a time. Go to him and be sure he is well, bring him back with you. He ought not be alone if he is ill."

She shook her head.

"Take Flandin and Rohmer and … and whoever you wish. They will keep you safe, and help you with what ever you need."

She finally agreed and they spent the night wrapped tightly together. She insisted he take her, she wanted to be as close as possible, she wanted to carry him with her, within her body, as she went. In the weeks since they had first accomplished penetration, he had not allowed them to do it often, convinced he was hurting her. And it did hurt, some. But she cherished it. And tonight his movements were infused with desperation, with the ache of impending separation. It felt to her as it had her first night with him, when she had been so certain he would send her away.

He looked up at her, his cock within her, as he thrust, trying to be careful not to hurt her, but overwhelmed by the feel of her, her cries of need and passion, her scent and her eyes.

"I love you, Adam. No matter what, don't forget I love you. You are mine and I am yours."

"Mine," he growled and spilt himself inside her, fighting not to collapse on her and to keep moving, his softened member pressing against her until she cried out his name. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, he thought.

In the morning she left, taking with her eight men of her husband's household. It was excessive, she thought, but he insisted she have every resource. They traveled through the dense wood, coming alive with spring, and across fields ever more familiar to her. They arrived at her father's house and she was relieved to see smoke from the chimney. She sent the men to settle the horses and scout around the grounds. She would send them into town to find rooms at the inn soon. She entered the house and found her father in his bed, feverish. He didn't seem to recognize her at first.

"Belle, is that you? Are you come back to me, daughter?"

"Yes, Poppa, it is me. How are you?"

He faded in and out of consciousness while she straightened the house and put on soup and a kettle for tea. She went out to speak to the men and found they had chopped and stacked wood and cleaned up the yard and stable. She sent them off to find rest and food and ale. One insisted on staying with her. He would be relieved in several hours by another.

So she nursed her father through the night and with the day break his fever abated. He looked at her with clear eyes when she brought him some tea.

"Belle, you are here. I thought I had dreamed you."

"No, no. I am here, Poppa."

"How have you come back Belle? What of the Beast? I tried to raise a force to rescue you but… well they considered me mad I think. If not for this fever, I think the doctor would have taken me away."

"Poppa! No! That is terrible! This town it terrible! You can not stay here among these people."

"They are not so bad, Belle. Ignorant, but they mean well enough."

"They do not!" She huffed, "You can come back with me."

"Back! Where? Surely not the castle? How did you come to escape, Belle?"

"I did not escape. The Beast, Poppa, when you saw him he was as a wounded animal, snarling and afraid, vicious in his pain. But he is not like that now. He is not an animal, nor a monster."

"Belle, what can you mean? I saw him with my own eyes! He imprisoned you!"

"No, he didn't. I was never imprisoned. He sent you away, I know. And he demanded I promise to stay. But he also saved my life Poppa, and he was kind and gentle and respectful. He would have let me leave, any time I asked."

"Then why have you not come to me? Why have you stayed all this time? I can hardly believe you, child."

"I am not a child, Poppa. And you must believe me. I stayed because I wished to. And I will return because I wish to. It is my home, now, Poppa. I hope you will come and stay with us."

Her father could hardly reconciled this but was determined his daughter not return to that beast. However, three days later he was mostly recovered from his illness and he had been introduced to some of the men. He had assumed that they were to guard the Beast's prisoner and return her, and was shocked when they deferred to her and called her Mistress.

"Are these men in your employ Belle?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

When she made plans to leave in two days he grew desperate, arguing stubbornly. She would not be moved, she would go. She offered to bring him and have him returned whenever he wished. He finally capitulated, deciding he could be of no help to her so far away; he might as well go with her.

So they began their journey back and he was surprised to see the forrest deep and dark, but by no means sinister. It was alive with bird song and wildlife. Belle, too, could see the improvement and she wondered how much of it was due to spring and how much to the fading curse.

She wondered what changes she would see upon her return, and felt disloyal for her hope that Adam had not returned to his prior form while she had been away. By now she fully expected it would happen, eventually. Although he was not so certain. But she wished to have a little more time with her Beast first. She would love him regardless, and anticipated spending the majority of their lives together with him in a man's body. But she had first loved him as a beast, and his brutish form held a certain appeal to her. She ought not think of her husband's body in such a way while in a carriage with her father, though.

They arrived at the castle just before sundown and the light was glowing gold around them. The dark gloomy edifice was transformed into a gleaming stronghold, elegant and impressive. Her father gasped.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, "I'm glad to be home."

The carriage halted and they descended. She expected her husband had used the mirror to keep watch over her and knew she returned with her father, and had made appropriate arrangements. They were greeted by human staff and her father was shown to a room. She dashed to the opposite wing to find her husband. He awaited her within his chamber. He was yet her beastly lover and she spent the rest of the night showing him how much she had missed him.

He reported that another maid had returned and that the fields appeared fertile again, and the cherry orchard had bloomed, but not the apple yet. He had been busy making arrangements to farm the land and restock the herds. He was excited and eager and she was so very pleased for him. He wondered if he should remain hidden from her father, saying he didn't know if the staff could make it believable that they remained just friends.

"He knows they call me Mistress already, but I do not wish to lie to him."

"I do not wish to explain the curse. It is too risky, and…" he looked away.

"Private. I understand. Let's see how long he plans to stay, and then decide."

She joined her father at breakfast. He was amazed at the changes to the castle, and his daughter's place there.

"You are Mistress of this place," he stated.

"Yes. I am sorry, I can not tell you everything. Other's secrets are involved."

"Are you safe here?"

"Oh, yes. Quite. And very happy."

He studied his little girl. She was different. Perhaps not as different as the building itself, but still, she was happy and confident. She was a woman.

He made plans then to leave, he had a meeting of inventors and philosophers scheduled and it was a long journey. He promised to visit again later in the summer.

She enjoyed his company and showing him the castle for several days. He was overawed at the library. And when he had gone her husband came out of hiding.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship (Chaps. 3-11). Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _She enjoyed his company and showing him the castle for several days. He was overawed at the library. And when he had gone her husband came out of hiding._

********TEN********

They enjoyed a blissful summer. He relearned how to manage his lands and began reestablishing his tenant farms. She grew into her roll as Mistress, it changed all the time it seemed as different factions of the house reemerged and needed bedchambers and new duties and clothes. Almost no one was satisfied with their prior responsibilities, having been stuck with them and no others for so many years. So they learned and grew together in a bit of happy chaos. Some few people wished to leave, so they had a meeting all together, and agreed to a profound secrecy. And the number who left was small, thankfully, as they could hire no replacements until the curse had completely faded.

By harvest time Belle rejoiced in seeing her husband talking with the farmers and playing with their children. There were only a few remaining unchanged now. Mrs. Potts had returned several weeks ago and was so pleased to be able to hug her son she cried for an hour. Lumiere and his lover had disappeared for several days when he reemerged naked and ready for her. Cogsworth yet ticked away. He was just as pleased to remain in solidarity with his Master as not though.

Belle began to worry as the cooler days of autumn descended. Adam would not be easy entering another winter in his present form. His mood turned darker and withdrawn as the days shortened. She surprised him after dinner one evening by retiring early. He went up to see her, to see if she was well. He found her naked and sprawled across his bed.

"Good evening husband. Will you join me?"

"Belle! I… well, I had thought to do some work this evening."

"So you will not join me?" she said, rolling to her back and spreading her knees, trailing her hand across her mons, slipping her fingers into her wet folds and moaning as she circled her clitoris. "Pity. I ache for you. My fingers will do well enough, but it is hardly the same." She gazed at him with hot eyes, seeing him shift, she looked at his erection, straining against his trousers.

"You wish to join me, I think."

"Belle," he growled, and was upon her in a flash, licking her naked gleaming flesh. His long tongue sliding inside her, his shaggy head between her knees. She sunk her hands into his fur and pulled him hard against her, rubbing herself on him, spreading her scent and juices on him.

"God, I will miss this," she gasped.

He raised his head. "Miss it?"

"Yes, when you return to human form. I will miss this. God, so much."

He stared at her, confused. "I will wish to love you, to taste you, no matter what form I have."

"But it wont be the same will it? Oh, some things will be better, I know. I can't wait to kiss you properly. And to feel you pressing your whole body against me as you pound me into the mattress."

He gasped, and she grinned. "You supposed I didn't ever consider how it would be? You do, I am certain." He looked away, and she tugged on him, pulling him up beside her.

"But however good, wonderful, those things will be, I fell in love, and in lust, with you just like this. And I will miss it, I expect."

"Do you not want me to change?"

"Oh, no. I am quite reconciled to it. I wish for it very much, not least because it will make you happy, and relieve you of this lingering grief and guilt, I hope. But you know Adam, that I didn't love you conditionally on you being something else. Not at the beginning, not when I came to you that first night, not when we married, not now."

"If I never… it has been weeks since the last person returned. What if it's done? If this is as good as it gets."

"Well, then we shall have to decide what to do about new staff. And I expect I shall have a great deal of loving and comforting to do while you grieve. But I will be here. And I will love you. Every day, no matter what."

He buried his face against her and wept. For her love, for the years he had suffered, for the fragile hope he held, and the fear. And in acceptance.

He loved her then, she insisted that he truly make love to her, that he fill her. And he did, several times over the course of the night. More than they had done before, but they needed each other. She felt she may be saying goodbye to the body of her lover. He felt he was likely gaining a glimpse of the rest of his life, and accepting that perhaps he could be enough for her, could be happy just as he was. Not perfect. But enough.

The second time he entered her she was sloppy wet with their combined come. She had resisted his attempt to clean them up, and instead spent a half hour telling him explicitly of her dreams and fantasies about him before they had become lovers. He was shocked that she had begun to think about him in such a way so early. Before she was sure she loved him even.

"You were strong and vigorous and virile. And so different than any other man I had known."

He snorted.

"I don't mean that. I mean that you, you took my rebuke and still wished to speak to me. You asked me questions to hear my thoughts. You gave me a library."

She had propped her self up on pillows then, laying on her side facing him and thrown her leg over his hip. She grasped his semi-firm cock and stroked it. Demanding he tell of one of his fantasies. He was reluctant and finally admitted that he had dreams, not immediately after the fact, but later, when she had softened to him and looked at him with liquid eyes some evenings, of the time she had tended his wounds after the wolf attack. In the dream she moved from tending his wound to releasing the fall of his trousers. She pulled out his cock and pleasured him with her mouth.

She stroked him hard and fast, and leaned in and lightly bit his nipple. "Later," she promised.

Having gotten him hard she directed him to her entrance and then waited. He looked at her. Always before, she moved onto him. He was always aware of how much he could hurt her so he waited for her move.

"Thrust into me."

He shook his head, putting his hand behind her butt to press her forward.

"No, thrust into me. I want to feel you moving powerfully into me, take me Adam."

He could not resist and he pressed forward slowly, the sudden give as he entered her surprising. As was finding her so wet, it was tight, like always, but she was so slippery he slid in without problem. He paused and made sure she was well. And then began to thrust, in and out. And discovered the genius of the position which allowed him to move and her to control the depth of penetration. He enjoyed the freedom and thrust faster and harder, she reached down and gripped the length of his cock that would not fit within her. He pressed a thumb into her clit grinding gently against her. He bent his head so he could tongue her lips and her ear, then she turned her head and kissed him, pulling his lip then his tongue into her mouth.

He shifted himself slightly so that his thrust angle changed, looking for that place in her tight passage that made her cry out and shudder. Ah, there it is. He gripped her hips and thrust in tight hard bursts that had her screaming and shuddering and clenching around him. He was lost then and spasmed into her. Filling her again with his come.

They bathed and slept after that. Not waking again until dawn when she crawled over him and demanded he fill her again before leaving their bed.

When he saw her later in the garden with Chip and the pup he noticed she walked awkwardly, waddling almost, and felt a delicious thrill of pride and satisfaction. It was wrong, he knew, but he could not help himself.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

This story contains descriptions of sex between a human Belle and the Beast in a consensual and respectful relationship. Read at your own discretion.

* * *

 _She felt she may be saying goodbye to the body of her lover. He felt he was likely gaining a glimpse of the rest of his life, and accepting that perhaps he could be enough for her, could be happy just as he was. Not perfect. But enough._

********ELEVEN********

A week later Cogsworth returned to himself and Beast spent an afternoon in solitude. Belle let him be until the evening. He was the last hold out of the curse; she had said all she could for now. He would have to grapple with this within his own mind and heart. She joined him in the evening and sat him in a chair before the fire and played out his early fantasy for him.

Neither would have been surprised if he had awoken with a man's face in the morning. But that did not happen. When the darkness of winter descended on the land and the castle his melancholy increased. She suspected though that he wasn't mourning his present or his future so much as the past. It had been winter when he had acted so abominably to a stranger all those years ago.

When the days grew to their shortest Belle began to suspect that her passion for her husband had produced more than pleasure. She grew more certain every day. At midwinter she organized a celebration in the household. Candles where lit and prayers of thanksgiving and hope were made. They had all endured a difficult season and come through it to enjoy new days. She lit her candle and shared the flame with Mrs. Potts who passed it on, then she turned to her husband.

"There will be light after these days of darkness, dearest. I am so grateful that I stumbled in the darkness into you. You are the brightest joy of my heart."

He gazed at her, moved and hopeful and so much in love. That evening she told him her suspicion, that in the late spring they would be parents. She thought she had been prepared for his reaction. Joy, surprise, trepidation, worry. But he was decidedly angry. And he left her abruptly and tore out of the castle into the snowy darkness. Where he went she knew not. She considered using the mirror, and would if he didn't come back soon. But she gave him his privacy and went to bed and wept.

He came back before dawn. Exhausted, cold and wet. She frowned in disapproval but silently helped him to change and dry. He settled before the fire.

"Will you join me Belle?" he asked wearily.

She sat beside him.

"I am sorry I left, that I was so angry."

"Why are you angry? Afraid, unhappy, I would understand, but anger?" she shook her head.

"I am not angry at you," he declared firmly. "I don't know if I can explain. I don't really understand. I had not thought that this was possible while I… am this way. We are so different that…"

"I understand. I was surprised too."

"I am disappointed that I remain this way, yet, and afraid that I always will. But how can I be a father like this? And what if the child is cursed, like me? What would that do to you?" he gasped at the last in horror. "What have I done?"

"Adam! Stop that! That is … morbid. There is a chance in every pregnancy that something will go amiss for mother or child. It is always a chance. Yet I never feared having a child, and I don't fear this, not much at least. My body is strong. And you said yourself, that it would be decidedly unusual for a child to result from a mating between two such different creatures."

"What do you think that means?"

"Well, either the part of you that is yet physically human has given me a child." She smiled at him, "Or the magic of the spell is at work. But darling, if that were the case, if we have a child with my eyes and your mane, would that be so terrible? I love you and I will love our child. And if you remain this way, then you and the child will share that. I might become jealous."

He rolled his eyes, but her practical words broke free some of the panicked dread that had oppressed him earlier. "But how could you carry such a babe, or deliver it? It would damage you. I can not bear to lose you."

"The child is as much me as it is you, darling. It will be managed. And if it is too terribly impossible, my body will protect itself, I imagine."

By fits and starts they came to some form of peace about the pregnancy, and when she felt the babe quicken the household was told. Belle regretted this immediately as she was coddled and smothered by everyone. But the excitement began to build and a nursery was chosen and refitted.

Belle began sewing little garments for the babe. One day, her husband joined her in the sunny library, where she sat sewing. He picked up a soft green garment from her basket and examined it.

"Forgive me Belle, but this garment … it is oddly shaped. And what is this?" He stuck his finger through a hole at the back.

"It is for a tale, should he come with one. I know you hate to have your tale constrained by clothes, I thought the little one might as well."

She returned to her sewing and he sat in fascinated wonder as his wife prepared for the possibility that her babe would be a beast. Like him.

That night he gently and lovingly worshiped his wife, bringing her sliding over into orgasm with tender touches and persistent soft stokes of tongue and fingers. "I love you, Belle. I am so grateful you came into my life. I am grateful to be your husband. I couldn't wish for anything more, there is nothing better than this." He spoke into her ear as he curled behind her, his cock pressing between her legs, stroking against her wet flesh.

She was humming all over, her skin sensitized by his earlier ministrations and tickled by this breath, his fur behind, over, around her. She shifted her pelvis and reached down to grasp him, guiding him into her, pressing back toward him as she stretched around him. She cried out and he stilled, trying to delay her next orgasm.

"I feel so full of you," she panted, "You are everywhere. Around me and within, in my nose and on my tongue," she licked the fleshy pad of his hand she held before her, "in my womb and in my heart."

His hips rolled slowly, steadily and his hands spanned her belly and her breasts, holding her still and close. He whispered love words to her as the sensations built, a steady tide, until they both succumbed to the pull of pleasure. And afterwards they slept, deep and sweet.

In the morning he shivered, chilled by a draft in the room and woke enough to pull the blankets over himself and shift toward the warmth of his wife. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, her breath ghosting across his chest.

Belle woke with the warmth of her husband close by, and she pushed forward to bury her face in his neck. And shrieked as smooth skin and coarse whiskers met her where soft fur ought to be. She threw back the blankets to see what was in her bed. And looked into Adam's eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

* * *

 _She threw back the blankets to see what was in her bed. And looked into Adam's eyes._

********TWELVE********

He sat up, "What? What is the matter? Are you ill? Is it the babe? What?"

She stared at him wide eyed. He was a handsome man, she had known from the portrait. But now he was naked and new and in her bed and covered in a beard. She thought she might faint. She reached out and tentatively picked up his hand. Smoothing her fingers over it in some wonder, and lifted it before his face. He stared and then looked frantically at the rest of himself, jumping out of bed and exclaiming. Soon he had her pulled out of bed as well and was embracing her and swinging her around.

She felt decidedly embarrassed and uncomfortable. Her mind knew this was Adam, her husband, her lover. But he didn't feel or look the same. And it was as if, for a moment, she was naked with a stranger.

She pulled on her robe and tried to calm her emotions before she burst into tears. "Belle! I can't believe it. I had almost given up hope, you know. I had been happy, as I was, as we were. It was … but now! Belle, how happy we shall be, the three of us."

She blinked at him, and sat back in the bed. He hurried to find something to wear and ran down to tell the staff. She hid in the room. She even considered removing to her own chamber. She had never slept there. When Adam returned several hours later, he found her still on the bed. Marginally dressed and reading a book.

"Belle, are you feeling well? It is unlike you to stay abed."

"I am well, Adam. I am sorry I…could not join you below. The staff are pleased I am sure."

"Oh yes! Everyone is celebrating. Do you not wish to join them?"

She declined and he spent his day below with the household, occasionally checking on her. By that evening he had begun to worry in ernest.

"Belle, I wish you would tell me honestly what ails you. Please, love. You say it is not the child. Are you otherwise unwell? Are you," he paused and looked away, taking a deep breath, "Are you displeased with me? Am I not what you, what you hoped for, expected?"

"Oh, Adam, no! No, it is not… you are a handsome man, you know you are. I… I am ridiculous." She broke into sobs and he gathering her into his arms. She stiffened at his touch, but his voice was the same and his scent familiar, and she allowed herself to find comfort in these strange arms and against this strange chest.

"Please, tell me Belle."

"I… I am… I am grieving I suppose. You are my love. And I will grow to love and enjoy your body, as it is now. But I …."

"You will truly miss my beastliness?" he asked, astounded.

"If I suddenly looked and felt drastically different, would you not feel… something."

"I suppose so." He laid his hand upon her swollen belly, "You are changing right before my eyes."

"It is not the same," she said petulantly.

"No, it's not." He held her a while, "I have been thinking all day about the things you once mentioned you thought about being able to do once this had happened. Do you remember?"

She blushed and nodded.

"May I kiss you, Belle?"

She nodded again. He placed his hands against her neck, sliding up to hold her face, and leaned toward her. He brushed his lips against her's gently. Then again with more pressure. Taking her lower lip and then her upper between his. His pressure increased and he slide his tongue across the seam of her lips and she opened for him. His tongue slid into her mouth and she paused at the unfamiliar feel. But he stroked her in just the way he used to and she cried out and pulled away. Looking into his eyes a long moment she grabbing his shoulders and kissed him again. He tasted the same, she quickly realized, and as his hands pressed into her back she had the unbidden thought that he might taste the same everywhere.

Her hands slid across his unfamiliar shoulders to his arms, which were firm and sinewy instead of the hulking bulk she had loved. She touched his chest and slid her arms around his back, marveling in holding him this way. She pressed her lips, then her cheek, against his jaw and cheek. He had shaved at some point in the day. He skin was soft and smooth, and felt so intimate against hers. They kissed for many long minutes. Celebrating and remembering and discovering.

"You will have to remind me Belle, if I forget this is all new again for you. That I am new again. I don't want to … there is no rush. Help me remember, if I forget."

"I will. Kiss me again."

And he did. And when the hour grew late he excused himself to change into a nightshirt and left her to chose her bed for the evening. Firmly he told himself not to be disappointed if she chose her own bed.

But he returned to find her in his bed, tucked beneath the blankets. When he stopped and stared at her there, she blushed and looked down. "Is this ok?"

"Yes! Oh, yes. Of course. You are always welcome here. I…" He didn't know what else to say, so he climbed into bed and extinguished the light.

"Good night, Belle."

"Good night, Adam."

They lay, apart, listening to each other breath. She tried to distinguish the difference in the way his breath sounded, and was suddenly desperate to hear his heart beating. She reached out toward him, finding his hand. "Adam?"

"Yes?"

"May I… would you mind if I…"

"Anything, Belle. What do you want?"

"To hear your heartbeat. May I?"

He was surprised, to be sure, but he opened his arms to her. She moved close to him then laid her head on his chest over his heart. He wrapped his arms around her. Hearing the familiar steady beat, smelling her husband, she relaxed and fell asleep.

He lay awake a long time contemplating her, and felt a moment of fear that he had traded a terrible curse for something much worse.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

* * *

 _He lay awake a long time contemplating her, and felt a moment of fear that he had traded a terrible curse for something much worse._

********THIRTEEN********

The next day they were awkward and careful around each other, but Adam determined to stay with her as much as she would allow. She resumed her activities around the house but avoided the staff a great deal, unable to cope with their unqualified joy. After dinner they retired to their rooms and Adam suggested that they read, having brought up the book they had begun several days ago. She agreed and as his familiar voice read out the words of the story they had laughed and debated over she relaxed and didn't even notice when tears began to slide down her face.

When Adam looked over to see her crying, his heart sank. He gathered her close and rocked her. "Perhaps we ought to choose a new book."

"No!" she cried, "No. I … we were reading this one. I want, I want to keep every piece of you that's, that stayed the same. There is enough new."

He nodded, and began making plans in his mind.

The slept again in the same bed, not touching. But Adam awoke wrapped around her with a stiff erection pressed into her buttocks. He shifted carefully away and out of bed. He went to his dressing room and pulled off his night clothes and looked down at the rude flesh jutting out from his body. It seemed almost foreign to him, as did any part of his body he consciously contemplated. But this demanded his attention. He debating taking himself in hand. He didn't want to bother Belle with his needs. But, he hesitated. It would be his first release since regaining his body. He wanted to share it with Belle, if possible. So he took a cold bath instead. And dressed quickly before leaving the room. He had plans to put into place.

Belle was surprised when she went down to breakfast that Adam had arrived before her. He asked her if she had plans and invited her to go for a walk. It was a bright, sunny day with the snow fresh and bright in the gardens. She agreed. They set out after breakfast. He was playful and challenged her to throw snow balls, he took her out to see Philipe. He suggested that they take a ride into the woods some day this week.

Several days later, he took her into the library and gave her a tour of, first, the rare and valuable items in the collection and next his favorites. Those were few, as he had not been much of a reader before he knew her. They selected a new book and she went toward the sofa to read it, but he pulled her to the carpet before the fire. They read for an hour, then sat talking and sipping tea.

"Are you trying to recreate our memories?" she asked.

He looked surprised, and caught. "Yes. Does that… is that acceptable?"

"Why?"

"Because, well I want you to know that I am still me, that what I enjoyed about getting to know you I still remember, I still enjoy. That I love you the same, even if I look and feel different."

"I don't want to replace my memories of us. They are precious to me. Please don't ask me to forget loving you as you were."

"No, Belle. I don't want that. I didn't mean that. I cherish your love for me, always. I was so very surprised to be loved by you, you know. I could hardly believe it. And I feel all that disbelief and fear again. I don't want to lose you, love. I… I want you to love me again."

"Oh, Adam! I do love you. I haven't stopped. I just, I have to know you in a new way, learn you again. Learn myself again as your lover. But I'm - I'm afraid."

"Why? Afraid of what?"

"Of losing you, as you were. We have all the rest of our lives, like this. But I'll never have you again, as you were."

"Oh, darling." He held her and kissed her. "If I promise to purr if you stroke my ears will that help?"

She gasped. Then collapsed against him in laughter.

He was delighted to have made her smile, laugh. She had been so very sad these last days.

The next day she took him outside and sat and fed the birds with him. She wouldn't forget, she promised herself. She would never forget. But he hadn't died, he was still with her, right beside her. And they had a life to live.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

* * *

 _She wouldn't forget, she promised herself. She would never forget. But he hadn't died, he was still with her, right beside her. And they had a life to live._

********FOURTEEN********

That night she moved toward him in the bed. It was dark and she couldn't decide if that was better of not. She turned his face toward her and kissed him. Concentrating on the feel and shape of his lips. They were soft yet firm beneath her own. She pulled his lower lip between her own and suckled, recalling the feel of doing so _before_. She was almost lost in the memory when he startled her by pulling her lip between his, massaging and soon sliding his tongue into her mouth. New, but wonderful. Soon enough he was half atop her, stroking her waist and belly through her nightgown with slender gentle hands. He pulled back and looked in her eyes, before slowly moving his hand up to her breast.

She held her breath. The touch was unfamiliar, but he pulled at her nipple the way she loved and then he was kissing her again and she sighed and gave herself up to this pleasure. Before long he slowed and gentled and they went to sleep. She was left wanting but was glad, really. She wasn't quite ready, although she would have gone ahead if he had wanted.

In the morning she woke to feel him wrapped around her back, his erection poking her backside. She lay silent and still and soon he stirred and eased away, slipping into the other room and then leaving altogether. She was relieved, she had been shocked to feel his penis against her. Her experience of his member before was so vividly different. She contemplated this the whole of the morning and came to little resolution.

When the same thing happened again the next day, she spent the morning wondering if he was going into the other room to pleasure himself. She didn't mind, in theory, that he would do that. What bothered her was that he was doing so because she, his wife, couldn't or wouldn't make love with him. She disliked being fragile or inadequate. She also, through the course of the day, realized that his own sexual need for her was not at all abated by this great change. She had been so wrapped up in her grief and confusion she hadn't noticed. But he wanted her, just as he always had. And he was keeping it from her, protecting her from his desire, as he had at the very beginning of their relationship.

That night they kissed and caressed and she made a motion toward relieving his throbbing erection, but he pushed her away.

"Why not?"

"Because you are not ready."

"I am!"

"Belle," he flopped back on his pillows. "We are clothed, we haven't touched any skin not proper in a drawing room, you sometimes still close your eyes and sniff me, as if to reassure yourself."

"I'm trying! I am. I don't want you to suffer because I am weak. I can be your wife, Adam. I can."

"I know you can. You are. You are here with me, growing our child. Arguing with me. You are an excellent wife."

"One you can't fuck because she is so.. so weak."

"Belle! My god, what is this? I am not upset, or impatient. Why are you so worried about this?"

"I know what you are doing. In the morning. I can't give you what you need so your have to.. have to…take yourself in hand."

"Oh! Is that all." He sighed deeply. "Belle, listen to me. I have not been doing that. I have been tempted, I can assure you. And if I had, it would not be any reflection on you. It is something that men do sometimes. I used to do it before, occasionally; it never bothered you. Oh!" he turned away, "Oh god!"

"What?"

"Are you… did you excuse my… behavior then because I was an animal, a beast. But now… I ought to be better? You were always disgusted by that?"

"No! What are you talking about! I wasn't disgusted. God, I used to love catching you touching yourself. I imagined that you were thinking about me and… But no. I'm not disgusted that you are doing it now either. I'm disgusted with ME. That I can't be what you need. That I've been so… well. I don't know."

"You are precisely what I need. I don't need anything else. I don't want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. And I didn't want you worrying about my desires while you where dealing with all of this."

"Oh. Well… I still don't like it that you sneak away to deal with it. It is very kind. But I…"

"I'm not sneaking away to deal with it. I'm taking a cold bath and then removing myself from the temptation of you laying in this bed."

"A cold bath! But why?"

He blushed, and she was gratified to see the look in his eye that she had always associated with a blush. "It's silly."

"Tell me, please."

"I want my first orgasm in this body to be with you, for you. It belongs to you. This body belongs to you. It is a product of your love and commitment, your heart. My desires, my pleasures have been yours since I first saw you. But this body…" She kissed him fiercely with tears running down her face and that night they held each other tightly as they slept.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

* * *

" _This body belongs to you. It is a product of your love and commitment, your heart. My desires, my pleasures have been yours since I first saw you. But this body_ _…"_ _She kissed him fiercely with tears running down her face and that night they held each other tightly as they slept._

********FIFTEEN********

In the morning she woke to find him tangled around her, his arms around her, his leg thrown over hers, his erection pressed into her hip. She turned slowly and watched the weak sun light up his face, tracing his features with her eyes then her fingers. She looked for traces of his old familiar features and marveled to find a few hints. His eyes, she knew, were the key. His new face was handsome and aristocratic. As refined as his old had been rough and brutish. His eyes flickered open and he stared at her, smiling slightly at her perusal.

"Do you approve, Madam?"

"Yes. You are handsome, as you know."

"I don't care about that. I just wish to be what you want."

She looked into his eyes. He was there, her Adam. Aching and longing for her and afraid of rejection. And she recognized that, recognized him.

She threw back the covers and he flopped back and sigh.

"Sit up, or better, stand up," she ordered.

"What? Are you kicking me out of bed?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"You said this body is for me, did you not?"

"Yes."

"I would like to see it." She looked in his eye, "To see you."

He rose slowly and stood by the bed uncertainly.

"Will you take off your night shirt?"

He complied. She scooted over to the edge of the bed near him. She examined him as he stood in the pale winter sunlight. He was such a drastic contrast to his old body. He was lean and muscled, but sleek. His shoulders straight and wide, and his hips narrow. His ribs were visible at his side. His chest was well formed, like a statue of marble. He had a little bit of hair sprinkled across his chest and trailing down his belly, disappearing beneath the cotton drawers he yet wore. His skin was pale, almost translucent in places, his veins showing from beneath. His legs were long and sturdy, they too had a light covering of hair. She was fascinated by him.

"Turn please."

And he did, showing her his back, tall and straight. His buttocks round and firm beneath the cotton. She wished to touch him. She could touch him. This was Adam, after all. She wondered if his new body would like the same kind of touches as the old. She saw him break out in goose bumps across his shoulders and arms.

"Oh, Adam! I'm sorry. You must be cold! Come back to bed."

She scooted back to make room for him. He hesitated though, uncertain.

"Please, Adam." She held open the blankets and he slide underneath, snuggling down into the warmth.

She giggled, "I'm sorry. I'm not used to you becoming chilled."

He smiled at her, "Do I meet with your approval?"

"You are beautiful. So different, but beautiful. I want to touch you; may I?"

"Of course. What ever you wish."

She slid her hand across his chest, marveling at the feel of his skin. Across the breadth of his shoulder, feeling the bones jutting out. She caressed his arm and found his hand, bringing it out of the blankets so she could see it. She spent long moments studying it and fondling it. Finally bringing it to her face and kissing his palm.

"I loved your hands. Your fingers were so strong, the fur so sleek and sensitive. And the fleshy pad of your palm was always hotter than the rest of you. I loved to feel your hand spanning my waist or supporting me, or your finger inside me.

"Your hand, this hand, is nimble. Look how long the fingers are!" She pressed their palms together, his still dwarfing hers. Then she slide their fingers together, interlocking them. "I couldn't do this before." She looked into his solemn eyes, "I expect you to hold my hand when we walk in the snow."

He smiled, "Yes ma'am."

She studied his neck and adams apple next. Kissing him and tasting his skin, rasping her tongue across the stubble on his jaw. He groaned and hummed when she kissed beneath his ear and suckled his earlobe into her mouth. "It's not a purr, but it will do."

He laughed and tumbled her over onto her back, kissing her and exploring her ears and neck. When he reached the neck line of her gown she sat up, then knelt on the bed and pulled it off.

He gasped, and stared at her. She blushed till she met his eye. Then laid back down and cuddled next to him. They both sucked in a breath at the exquisite feel of skin on skin.

"Oh, god Belle. You feel so good. You always felt good but this is, this is… oh god." He buried his face in her hair, and breathed her in. It was such an odd combination of familiar and new she was bewildered a moment. But he was right. As wonderful as feeling his fur against her naked skin had been, feeling his naked skin against her was amazing. She wriggled a bit. Sliding her arm against him, then a leg. Then she gave up being subtle and ran her hands possessively over his back and arms, into his hair and behind his ears. He loved that, still.

He pulled back and kissed her, while easing his lower body away from her.

"Where are you going?"

"No where, baby, I'm right here."

She reached down and gripped his hip, pulling him back toward her, his erection against her thigh.

He panted and tried to shift again. "I'm too close, Belle. I'm sorry."

She looked at him then sat up, gloriously naked and reached to pull off his drawers. She eased them over his straining cock and off his legs then sat back and looked at him.

He was smaller than before, of course. And shaped slightly differently. But it was not an insubstantial organ, and proportionally to his body she thought he looked every bit as impressive. It was rigid and standing up away from his body, the tip glistened with a drop of fluid. She reached out her hand and touched him. He was as silky smooth and soft as before, the skin sliding over the rigid girth. She could wrap her hand around him almost completely. She gripped him as he had liked and slide her hand up and down, his hips rocked away from the bed and she looked up to find him watching her.

"Like this?" she asked.

"That is good. So good. You know what I like, Belle."

"I didn't know if it would be the same."

"I don't know either."

"What did you like.. before?"

"I.. I hardly remember. What I like now is your hand on me."

She stroked him for several minutes, then could resist no longer and bent over to kiss the tip, drawing her tongue into the slit to taste him. She almost wept; he tasted the same. She slid her lips over him sucking him into her mouth. It was different to be sure, he was much more manageable like this. She looked up at him, and her heart beat raced and her breasts felt suddenly heavy at the look of desire in his eyes. She let him go and reached up to kiss him, her body draped across him, her hand pumping his cock until he stiffened and cried out, his semen spurting across his belly and her hand.

"Oh god, Belle. I love you. I love you so much."

She snuggled into him while he calmed, then rose to get a cloth to clean them up. When she returned under the covers he pulled her to him.

"May I touch you Belle?"

She nodded and watched him as he let his hands explore her body. She was the same, but his hands were new, and he seemed fascinated to watch them touch her. He fondled her breasts and stroked her side and belly. He licked her nipples, and suckled them into his mouth between gentle lips. He kissed her navel, and smelled the creases of her thighs, which she thought was weird. "What?" he asked. "You smell me, may I not do the same?"

His fingers, those long, nimble, slender fingers, delved into her folds. He touched her firmly and knew all her spots. His fingers slid into her vagina, two at once, and he was surprised to find she felt snug to him. He had been afraid that their previous love making had altered her, damaged her somehow. But he could see nothing of the sort, and he realized he had been ridiculous before. She had tried to tell him she was more resilient than that.

He felt around within her, his fingers so much more agile and sensitive than they had been. He felt her textures and her muscles. He leaned in to kiss her, swiping his tongue over her clit she cried out and he did it again. He suckled her into his mouth, between his lips and flicked his tongue over her again and again until she spasmed around his fingers.

He looked up to see her flushed and sated, and with tears on her cheeks.

"Oh, darling. I'm sorry. Are you well? What is the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing is the matter. It is well. It will all be well."

They held each other for a long time until her stomach growled and he startled, she giggled.

"Shall we go down to breakfast?"

"No. Let's have it sent up. Let's stay here today."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

* * *

" _Nothing, nothing is the matter. It is well. It will all be well..._ _Let_ _'_ _s stay here today._ _"_

********SIXTEEN********

So they did. They ate and talked. Then sat by the fire and read to one another. Then made their way back to the bed where they spent the afternoon enjoying one another. Several times she would focus on an area of his body and study it, as she had done his hand earlier. Telling him what she had love about it before. What was beautiful about him now. When she did so with his penis he was surprised and deeply aroused.

She took him in hand, he was semi-erect. "I was so surprised when I first saw you before. That your penis was almost hairless. It seemed so vulnerable, jutting out like that with no protective coat."

"It was only like that when aroused."

"Yes, I remember. You tucked it quite away when you wished. Not so now." She studied him, and ran her hands through the curling hair at the base of his genitals. "You where so big, before. Everywhere, but here too. I was almost frightened, how could I manage such a proud and heavy thing. But we did well enough, did we not? My hands and mouth were small, but …"

"You have always given me so much pleasure. From the very first."

"The first time I took you in, I remember trying so hard not to wince. And thinking how unfair it was, that if you had been another man I might have winced all I wished and you wouldn't have paused at all. I was so afraid that I would put you off the idea."

"I was afraid to hurt you. You seemed so small and fragile. I could have savaged you, it was in me, you know."

She met his eye, "I know."

He was surprised by this. He had suspected she knew more of his brutish feelings than he openly acknowledged, but that she knew he sometimes wished to ravage her in their bed, that he held himself back to spare her was surprising.

"Do you still have those feelings?"

He blushed and turned away, "Yes. Not as… insistent, but yes. My temper, and I sometimes wish to throw off propriety and rut and ravage and snarl. I am still a selfish brute, in my heart, I fear."

"No. No you are not. You are a man, and an animal, just as we all are. You have perhaps a unique mix of the two, in your heart and mind, as you had in your body for so long. But you are generous and kind. You are a responsible and diligent master. You are not careless or selfish or cruel."

"But I could be."

"Do you wish to be?"

"I don't wish to be anything that would make you lose respect for me, or fear me."

"Well, then."

She slung her leg over his thighs and perched there, stroking his penis until it was fully hard and erect. She had her other hand between her legs, stroking herself and she was soon wet and ready for him. She met his eyes as he lay watching her. She lifted herself over him and positioned him at her opening, then slid down a few inches. She gasp and stilled, circling her hips and adjusting to the stretch of him. She slide down the rest of the way settling herself against his hips. He was pressing against her cervix, and she wouldn't like to stay like this long. But it was an amazing feeling to have the whole of him within her. She had felt full of him before, certainly. But this was different and so good. She leaned over him and kissed him, raising and lowering herself until she found a rhythm.

"How is that?" she asked.

"Oh, so good. You feel so good." He was almost overwhelmed at the feel of her grinding herself down onto him; the pressure and the silken feel of her encompassing him, and the delight of being so deep. It had been such a forbidden thing for all of their past together.

He caressed her arms and breasts and pulled her down against him, reveling in the feel of her skin, bracing himself to thrust up into her. The freedom to do so, without fear of injuring her was amazing and he thrust hard. Feeling her pelvis against his was deeply satisfying.

He spun them over, and pressed her into the bed. "I believe you once mentioned looking forward to this." He kissed her hard then began to thrust fast and hard. She arched up against him and cried out. He propped himself up on his elbows after a minute, careful of her belly which lie between them. Feeling his release coming fast upon him, he reached between them and rubbed her to the sound of their flesh slapping together. She climaxed within moments, clenching around him and throwing her head back. He followed, overwhelmed by the feel of her.

They lay together afterwards, limbs intwined and faces close.

"It's going to be ok," he said.

"Better than that. It's going to be wonderful."

He caressed her belly and felt, for the first time, the baby move. "Hey! He moved! Did you feel that? He moved."

"Yes," she laughed. "I felt it. I am glad you can feel it now, too."

"How do you feel?"

"Very well. I think it has been an easy pregnancy."

"We shall need to find a midwife soon. I asked Mrs. Potts to ask around."

"Good. That's good. But there are still several months."

"Do you think… he will be like I was?"

"I don't know." She chewed her lip, "Can I tell you a secret."

"Of course."

"I have wished sometimes that he would be."

He looked shocked and stricken, and pulled back from her.

"Not all the time. And it is selfish, I know. It would be a very difficult life for a child. Isolating. But, still…I would like the, the piece of you that was, living on. I know you probably can't understand."

He shook his head. "I can not want that for our child. I don't."

"I know. And I think it is exceedingly unlikely. We talked about this before."

"You were trying to reassure me."

"Yes. But I did not speak falsely."

"Do you think we will be able to tell, before hand?"

"I don't know. Although if he were particularly large or oddly shaped we might detect it." She saw his horrified fascination as he look at the bump. "He is not. This is a perfectly normal sized increase. There is no cause for alarm."

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be."

He laid his head against her chest and wrapped his arm around her belly. "Please be well. Please," he whispered. She carded her fingers through his soft hair and they fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

* * *

 _He laid his head against her chest and wrapped his arm around her belly. "Please be well. Please," he whispered. She carded her fingers through his soft hair and they fell asleep._

********SEVENTEEN********

Four months later Belle looked skeptically down at her bulging belly. She thought it very likely she was carrying a beast-baby. She was enormous and swollen and misshapen and the monster-child kick her ribs and stole her breath and made her have to pee all night. She looked over at the father of the brute-spawn and glared. He sat, comfortable and easy on the sofa, while she was marooned on the bed.

She signed and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Are you well, Belle? Can I get you anything."

She scowled at him. "You can help me up. This is your child I am carrying around."

He hurried over to help her rise. She disappeared into her chambers, returning after a few minutes.

"I want to take a walk."

He glanced out the window. The earlier light rain had disappeared leaving the early evening clear and fresh. "Certainly." He helped her into her shoes and carried her shawl, he held her steady as they descended the stairs. They walked out to the near gardens, bypassing the roses not yet blooming and toward the plantings of bulbs that where a riot of color and the early wildflowers in the meadowland beyond. She walk carefully, never certain of her balance these days. She had been deeply relieved when the midwife released her from the rest she had insisted upon a month earlier. She had been instructed to walk as much as she could, as it would strengthen her and help the baby come. He could come any time now. So she walk every day, several times a day. Outdoors when it was fine and along the halls and galleries of the castle when it wasn't. He went with her as ofter as he could, as often as she allowed him to.

They paused at one of her favorite benches and sat for a rest, looking over a planting of daffodils. "They are lovely," she said, and asked him who had planted them.

It took him a few minutes to recall that it had been an aunt, who had grown up in the castle and gone away to marry.

"Do you ever wish to find your family?"

"No. I have thought of it, but… It would be difficult to explain. I was trapped in the curse for so long and now, well they have all aged and I am still young."

"Do you not miss them?"

"Not as such. That sounds cold, I know. But, we where never close, Belle. Not like you and your father. Not like your father was with your mother, or his sisters. I was closer with Mrs. Potts. She was my nurse, you know, when I was young. She stayed on to become the housekeeper. And Lumiere was like a dirty uncle when I was a teen," he chuckled at some memory. "I only saw my own parents, or my aunt and uncle, rarely. Usually at formal events."

"Oh, Adam, I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't worry. I was well enough cared for. Even they, in their way, cared for me. But they had other responsibilities far away, and well, anyway. Even if we had been close, Belle, it seems so distant to me now. A lifetime ago, like it happened to another person."

"Do your memories as the Beast feel the same?"

"Some of them. The long years I was alone here are surreal, faded. But I came alive when I met you. All of that, every minute of it is real to me, it is my real life. This life. Our life."

She squeezed his hand and they walked some more. She settled into bed when they returned, groaning at the pressure on her back. "I can not believe that midwife; this child is certainly a beast-child. He his enormous, and I am certain he has horns. How am I supposed to deliver horns?!"

He blanched at the thought, before rationality reasserted itself. The midwife had said everything was completely normal, her size was right, the baby as active as he should be, and everything felt just as it ought. She had advised Belle to rest for several weeks as she had some spotting, and it was rather early to deliver. But that was over and now everything was ready.

"He shall not have horns. Even if he is beast-like at all, no animal is born with horns, they grow later."

"Well, perhaps."

"And there is no reason to suppose it is anything other than a normal human child."

She looked at him anxiously. "If he is not, will you, will you promise not to send him away? And to love him. It won't be his fault. It won't be yours either. Just a freak thing, totally unexpected, impossible. But you mustn't blame him, like you did yourself for so long."

He gathered her to him and kissed her wet eyes. "I promise. He shall be your child, and nothing could keep me from loving him." She pulled him closer and kissed him hard, demanding.

"Make love to me."

"Belle, you are uncomfortable."

"Please? I want to feel you, I want to come. Please help me relieve some of this…" she wave her hands around in frustration.

He gently pulled her clothes off, and paused to rub her special balm into the straining skin over her belly and into her swollen feet and ankles. He returned to her hands and massaged the fragrant balm into her fingers and her palms then up to her elbows. He pressed his fingers into her shoulders and neck, bending to kiss her deeply. Her muscles relaxed and warmed under his hands, and she felt decadent and languid. She watched him as he caressed her breasts and fondled her nipples, he had been fascinated to see them change over the course of the pregnancy. The touches now sending bursts of tingling pleasure down her body. He slid his hand between her thighs, finding her folds already growing damp with her desire.

"Let me see you."

He sat up and stripped off his clothes, enjoying the attention she gave him with her hands and eyes and lips.

He slide a finger inside of her, and circled his thumb over her nerves. She bucked against him and moaned, her passage growing slick as pleasure and want rushed over her skin, sinking into her core.

"I want you inside me, please," she gasped.

He kissed her. "Come for me once first. Come on. I want to make you feel good, baby." He leaned over and suckled her nipple into his mouth, drawing hard against it. He switched and increased his pace and pressure below. She cried out and shuddered, her muscles fluttering against his finger as her toes curled as the sensation burst.

"Roll over," he urged. Helping her settle on her side, facing away from him. He spooned close behind her and lifted her upper leg up and back to rest on him, his hand sliding over her hip to plunge into her folds. He guided himself into her from behind. They groaned together and she pressed herself back into him. He would never get tired of feeling her pressing into his pelvis, thrusting deeply into her body.

He had never been so embarrassed as when he had asked the midwife if marital relations were advisable this late in the pregnancy. He was glad at this moment that he had endured the blushes. Such a small price to pay for this pleasure. To hold his beautiful wife in his arms, to be within her, to share in her body, in her life in this way, was magnificent. He pushed her to orgasm, managing to give her two more, before he spent himself within her. She was limp and languid when he cleaned them up. She was almost asleep when she demanded he help her up so that she could relieve her bladder. She returned to the bed and was asleep in minutes. He stayed close and watched her sleep, drifting off himself for a while. He awoke in the middle of the night to her moans and restlessness.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: This story intended for Adults. Please respect the author's intention and click the back button if you are not yet 18.

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 _He awoke in the middle of the night to her moans and restlessness._

********EIGHTEEN********

"Belle, what is the matter? Are you well?"

She opened her eyes and then squeezed them shut as she curled in on herself, keening "Oh god, oh god," she gasped. "It's time."

"Time! Are you sure?" he looked at her anguished face "Of course you are sure."

He dashed off to have the midwife sent for and returned and made sure her chamber was prepared for her, he stirred up the fire and turned back the bedding. Then he went back in to retrieve her. She insisted on walking and made it all the way to the bed before collapsing against him in another pain. He lifted her and settled her in the bed. She was uncomfortable and rose again before long. In this way did they pass the remaining hours of darkness, shifting and pacing, worrying.

The midwife arrived and evicted him from the chamber. He refused to go farther then his own room, where he sat in horrified tension as he listened to her labor. The midwife never raised her voice, never panicked and he held on to that. Mrs. Potts came and went, stopping to reassure him. Before the morning had passed he was a father.

Mrs. Potts came to tell him. He had a beautiful, healthy, normal, daughter.

A daughter! He had been marginally prepared for a beast-child. But a daughter! He was stunned. He burst in to see Belle, scandalizing the midwife, whom his beast-feelings kicked out before his higher reasoning could intervene. Mrs. Potts tsked behind him and soothed the lady's feelings, bundling her off to have a spot of tea.

"Belle, it is a girl!"

"I know. I am as surprised as you."

They had at some point ceased to consider a girl-child. He had been unable to imagine a girl-beast, so conversation had centered entirely on boy children, beast-like or otherwise. Girls had been forgot.

But here she was!

He stepped closer, Belle was holding the tiny bundle. He reached toward her and tentatively touched her head.

"Would you like to hold her?"

"May I?" he asked in wonder. She placed the bundle in his arms, instructing him how to support her head.

"She is tiny, and so beautiful."

"I assure you she is not so tiny. She is a perfectly normal, robust babe. And she must have a name."

"A name! I suppose Raphael will not do."

"No, I should think not."

He studied her, his darling Belle, she looked pale and tired, but her eyes were bright and her voice strong. "Are you well, dearest? Did everything go well? Was it awful? I heard your cries and I wept for you; I have never felt so helpless."

"It was painful and difficult, and I shall be lucky to walk in the next several days at least. But It went as well as it could. I should be well in time. And this little one was worth all the effort. Is she not beautiful?"

She was. She was so perfect. And to think, they had created her together when he was a beast, a brute in body. He had hated himself, then, and only barely believed Belle could and did love him. His own love, he saw now, had been tenuous and reedy. No wonder it took so long for the curse to lift. It took him all those weeks and months of being loved by Belle, being accepted and cherished by her, to learn to love in truth. To accept himself and believe in his own love for her.

And here was the product of that love, that imperfect, stumbling, brutish love.

"We should call her Esperanza," he said, looking up at his wife.

"Esperanza. Yes, she was born in our hope," she agreed, and took the babe back to feed her when she fussed. He watch on in pride and amazement and deep gratitude.

Three years later Esperanza was joined by Raphael, and then five years later by David. Their grandfather visited several times a year until his health grew poor and Belle established him in a cottage nearby where her staff could see to his needs regularly. The children went to see him, then, and delighted in learning tricks and how to construct toys and contraptions.

Belle and Adam watched in awe and wonder as their children grew in wisdom and strength. They carefully taught them each how to recognize and control the brutish tendencies of their hearts. They grew into compassionate and kind young people, ready to help, eager to learn, curious and loving and strong. The were the best of their parents, the strong parts that had learned to see their weakness and overcome, to love and hope when it seemed impossible.

They had hardship and misunderstanding and grief, like any life well lived. But they loved fierce and deep and wild.

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A/N: So that is the end of the tale. I hope you enjoyed. Let me know your thoughts.


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